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LIFE IN DIXIE 



DURING THE WAR 



1861=1862=1863-1864:=1865 



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MARY A. H. GAY. ^ 



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ATLANTA, GA.: 
THE FOOTE & DAVIES CO. 

1894. 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1894, 

By Maky a. H. Gay, 
in the oflEice of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



EloOS 



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CONTENTS: 



PAGE. 

Introductory Remarks 7 

Chapter I. — The Mag-nolia Cadets 15 

Chapter II. — The War Record of DeKalb County 18 

Chapter III. — Labors of Love— Musical — Decatur 23 

Chapter IV. — Labors of Love — Knitting and Sewing, and 

Writing Letters to "Our Soldiers" 29 

Chapter V. — The Third Maryland Artillery — Some Old 

Songs 36 

Chapter VI. — A Daring and Unique Chase — The Capture 

and Re-capture of the Railroad Engine, "The General.". . 40 
Chapter VII. — Coming Home from Camp Chase — The 
Faithful Servant's Gift — A Glimpse of Confederate 

Braves 46 

Chapter VIII. — Some Social Features— Morgan's Men Ren- 
dezvous at Decatur — Waddell's Artillery — Visits from the 

Texans — Surgeon Haynie and his Song 60 

Chapter IX. — Thomie's Second Home Coming — He Leaves 
for the Front — His Christian Labors in Camp — He De- 
scribes the Battle of ^ew Hope Church — TheJSlreat Re- 
vival in Johnston's Army 65 

Chapter X.— A Visit to Dalton— The Fidelity of an Old- 
time Slave 83 

Chapter XI. — A Perilous Trust 93 

Chapter XII. — A Scene in an Atlanta Confederate Hospital. 97 
Chapter XIII. — Concealing Confederate Clothing — Valu- 
ables Carried to Atlanta— Toby Taken 111 102 

Chapter XIV. — The Advance Guard of the Yankee Army — 

I am Ordered Out— A Noble Federal 113 

Chapter XV.— The Battle of the 22d of July, 1864— The 

Death of Toby 124 

Chapter XVI. — Everett's Desertion 135 

Chapter XVII. — A Visit to Confederate Lines — A Nar- 
row Escape— My Return — The Fall of Atlanta 145 



r 



Chapter XVIII.— The Ten Days' Armistice— Going Out with 
the Confederate Clothes— Scenes at Atlanta, and at Love- 
joy's Station— The Visit to Granbury's Brigade— The Last 
Interview with Thomie 157 

Chapter XIX.— The Eeturn Home— From Jonesboro via 
Augusta— Scenes and Incidents by the Way— The Lonely 
Journey from Stone Mountain to Decatur 182 

Chapter XX.— On the Verge of Starvation— A Worn-out 

- Army Horse is Found— Uncle Mack Makes a Wagon— I 
Make a Unique Trip— Starvation is Warded Off— Dangers 
and Scenes by the Way 196 

Chapter XXL— A Second Trip for Supplies— Gathering "Fod- 
der" from a Cane-brake, as a Preliminary— The Lonely 
Journey— Changing Yankee's Xame— I Meet the Federal 
Eaiders ^ 215 

Chapter XXII.— Xews from the Absent Brother— He 
Marches into Tennessee with Hood — Extracts from His 
Letters Written on the Way — Two Ears of Parched Corn — 
The Xight Burial of a Soldier 2 32 

Chapter XXIIL— An Incident of the War— Belated to the 
Writer by Hon. Koger Q. Mills, of Texas 240 

Chapter XXIV. — Picking up Minnie Balls Around Atlanta 
— Exchanging Them for Bread 244 

Chapter XXV. — The Decatur Women's Struggle for Bread — 
Sweet Singing in Hard Places — Pleasant Visitors— I Make 
a Trip to Atfibama — The Xews of my Brother's Death 249 

Chapter XXVL— My Mother's Death— Eev. John S. Wilson 
Performs the Funeral Service 2 63 

Chapter XXVII. — A Reminiscence 270 

Confederate Love Song 278 

Conclusion 280 

Appendix 285 



INTRODUCTION. 



I am asked to write a few words of introduction to 
these reminiscences of a lady who, in the pleasant 
afternoon of a life devoted to deeds ofmercv and char- 
ity, tnrns fondly and sympathetically to the past. 
But there is nothing to be said. What word of mine 
could add to the interest that inheres in this unpreten- 
tious record of a troubled and bloody period? The 
chronicle speaks for itself, especially to those who 
remember something of those wonderful days of 
war. It has the charm and the distinction of abso- 
lute verity, a quality for which we may look in vain 
in more elaborate and ambitious publications. Here 
indeed, is one of the sources from which history must 
get its supplies, and it is informed with a simplicity 
which history can never hope to attain. 

We have here reproduced in these records, with a 
faithfulness that is amazing, the spirit of those dark 
days that are no more. Tragedy shakes hands with 
what seems to be trivial, and the commonplaces of 
every-day life seem to move forward with the gray 
battalions that went forth to war. 

It is a gentle, a faithful and a tender hand that 
guides the pen — a soul nerved to sacrifice that tells 
the tale. For the rest, let the records speak for them- 
selves. 

Joel Chandler Harris. 



1 



PREFACE. 



Byway of preface to ''Life in Dixie During the 
War," I scarcely know what to say. I have long 
felt that it was the duty of the South to bequeath to 
posterity the traditions of that period ; for if we do 
it not ourselves they will be swallowed up in ob- 
livion. Entertaining this opinion, I have essayed the 
task of an individual effort, and hope that others 
may follow my example. 

No woman who has seen what I have seen, and felt 
v^hat I have felt, would be apt to v^rite with less as- 
perity ; and yet, now that we have come back to the 
United States, and mean to stay in it, let the provo- 
cation to depart be what it may, I would not put 
into practice an iota of the war-time feeling. In 
thus expressing myself, I am sure I represent every 
Christian in my own beautiful Southland. 

There was one for whom these sketches would have 
had a special inteiest. An inspiring motive for writ- 
ing them was that they would be read by my nephew, 
Thomas H. Stokes, of Atlanta, the only child of the 
brother so often mentioned. But, ere he had had 
more than a glimpse of them, he was called away by 
an Inscrutable Providence, in his pure and beautiful 
young manhood, as we trust, to a Land of Peace 
more in keeping with his noble, true and tender heart 
than earth, with its sin and strife. "Blessed are the 
pure in heart ; for they shall see God." 



INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 

THE TOCSIX OF WAR. 

The tocsin of war has resounded from Mason and 
Dixon's line to the Gulf of Mexico, from the snow- 
crested billows of the Atlantic to the tranquil waves 
of the Pacific. 

War ! War ! War ! is the battle cry of a people, 
who, long suffering and patient, but now, goaded to 
desperation and thoroughly exasperated, are deter- 
mined, at all hazards, to protect the rights for which 
their forefathers fought, bled and died ; and which 
their own Thomas Jefferson embodied in an instrument 
of writing which, for beauty of diction and wisdom 
of thojight, will go sounding down the corridors of 
time, so long as time itself shall last — unequaled, un- 
paralelled; and which was adopted without a dis- 
senting voice by the ablest convocation of men ever 
assembled in national councils as their declaration of 
human rights and liberties. 

Thus, under auspices favorable to the happy and 
speedy development of a ncAV and glorious country, 
commenced the government of the freest and happiest 
people on earth, under the administration of George 
Washington — an administration which caught the 
eye of the world and called forth its admiration ; 
and which the most censorious never had the temer- 
ity to attack ; an administration which secured for 
the country the alluring title, ''The land' of the 
free and the home of the brave." And its fame 
went abroad in story and in song, and every nation 



on earth vsought its blessings and advantages, and 
it grew to be a mighty cotintrv. 

Coeval with the settlement of this beautiful conti- 
nent by the white man, there came, or rather, there 
was brought, a race of people which needed the fos- 
tering care as vsrell as the strong arm of slavery to 
kindle the latent spark of intellectual fire which had 
smoldered for centuries, in, as President Cleveland 
would say, "innocuous desuetude." 

This race of people came not as pioneers in the 
building up of this great nation, but as a menial race, 
sold into bondage by their own kith and kin, and not 
to be endowed with elective franchise nor representa- 
tion in its councils. It was held in bondage alike in 
Massachusetts and in South Carolina. Under the 
auspices of slavery, it became a powerful factor in the 
building up of the staple industries of the country — the 
Southern portion of it directly, the Northern portion 
indirectly, and it received in return more than any 
othtr people in bondage has ever received — as a 
usual thing, good wholesome food, comfortable 
homes and raiment, and tender treatment in sickness. 
When they failed to receive these benefits, their mas- 
ters w^ere improvident and careless alike of the com- 
fort of their own wives and children, and thej^ too, 
showed hard usage and neglect. This is not said b^^ 
way of apology for any treatment received at the 
hands of Southern slaveholders by this vassal race. 
I repeat that no people held in bondage ever received 
so many benefits. 

Slavery, as all other institutions, had its evils, and 
those evils were far greater to the slaveholder than 
to the slaves. Climatic and otherconsiderations ren- 



dercd the system of slavery unprofitable in the 
Northern States of this great and growing republic, 
and the men at the helm of their respective govern- 
ments agitated the subject of emancipation. 

Having given themselves time to bring the greater 
number of their slaves south and sell them, they nom- 
inally freed the others by legislative enactment; 
and by this great and magnanimous action, there were 
so few left that to this day, as attested by Northern 
tourists, a ''darkey," or a ''colored person," is an 
object of curiosity and great interest. 

The country, North and South, was too prosperous. 
The agitators could stand it no longer. Discord 
and strife took the place of harmonj^ and peace in 
the halls of congress, and in the senate chamber of 
the United States. Men who could in no other way 
acquire prominence, became conspicuous as cham- 
pions of an "oppressed and down-trodden race," 
and were swift to slander th^ white people of the 
South. Our slaves were taught that murder, rapine, 
arson, and every species of wickedness knowm in the 
catalogue of crime which, in any way, could weaken, 
yea, destroy the South, was service most acceptable. 

The country was in the clutches of an organized 
mob, determined to precipitate it into the jaw^s of 
dissolution. By way of confirming this statement 
the following resolutions are reproduced : 

These resolutions w^ere adopted by a large and 
representative body of men at Worcester, Massa- 
chusetts, soon after Fremont's defeat in 1856, and 
long before Governor Gist of South Carolina, and 
other Southern leaders, began to take measures for 



a peaceable separation, rather than to be forcibly ex- 
pelled : 

^^ Resolved, That the meeting of a state disunion 
convention, attended by men of various parties and 
affinities, gives occasion for a new statement of prin- 
ciples and a new platform of action. 

'^Resolved, That the conflict between this principle 
of libert^^ and this fact of slavery has been the 
whole history of the nation for fifty years, while the 
only result of this conflict has thus far been to 
strengthen both parties, and prepare the way of a yet 
more desperate struggle. 

''Resolved, That in this emergency we can expect 
little or nothing from the South itself, because, it 
too, is sinking deeper into barbarism every year. Nor 
from a supreme court which is alw^ays ready to in- 
vent new securities for slaveholders. Nor fromi a 
president elected almost solely by Southern votes. 
Nor from a senate which is permanently controlled 
b\^ the slave power. Nor from a house of representa- 
tives which, in spite of our agitation, will be more 
proslavery than the present one, though the present 
one has at length granted all ^which slavery asked. 
Nor from political action as now conducted. For 
the Republican leaders and press freely admitted, in 
public and private, that the election of Fremont was, 
politically speaking, the last hope of freedom, and 
even could the North cast a united vote in 1860, the 
South has before it four years of annexation pre- 
vious to that time. 

''Resolved, That the fundamental difference be- 
tween mere political agitation and the action we 



propose is this, it requires the acquiescence of the slave 
power, and the other onl^' its opposite. 

'^Resolved, That the necessity for disunion is writ- 
ten in the whole existing character and condition of 
the two sections of the country — in the social organ- 
izations, education, habits and laws — in the dangers 
of our white citizens in Kansas and of our colored 
ones in Boston, in the wounds of Charles Sumner 
and the laurels of his assailant — and no government 
on earth was ever strong enough to hold together 
such opposing forces. 

^^ Resolved, That this movement does not seek merely 
disunion, but the more perfect union of the free 
States by the expulsion of the slave States from the 
confederation in which they have ever been an ele- 
ment of discord, danger and disgrace. 

^^Resolved, That it is not probable that the ulti- 
mate severance of the union will be an action of de- 
liberation or discussion, but that a long period of 
deliberation and discussion must precede it, and this 
we meet to begin. 

^'Resolved, That henceforward instead of regard- 
ing it as an objection to any system of policy that 
will lead to the separation of the States, we will pro- 
claim that to be the highest of all recommendations 
and the grateful proof of statesmanship ; and we will 
support poHtically and otherwise, such men and 
measures as appear to tend most to this result. 

'^Resolved, That by the repeated confession of 
Northern and Southern statesmen, the existence of 
the union is the chief guarantee of slavery, and that 
the despots of the whole world and the slaves of the 



^'hole world have everything to hope from its des- 
truction and the rise of a free Northern republic. 

^'Resolved, That the sooner the separation takes 
place the more peaceable it will be ; but that peace or 
war is a mere secondary consideration in view of our 
present perils. Slavery must be conquered ; peaceabl3^ 
if we can, forcibly if we must." 

The above resolutions were not an isolated exam- 
ple of party fanaticism. The stock and staple of the 
entire republican press was slander of the Southern 
people. Seeds thus sown broadcast over the land 
sprang up and bore apples of Sodom. 

The insults and taunts, and the encroachments 
of fifty years had welded the people of the South 
into a compact party organization, animated for 
all substantial purposes by one sentiment and one 
glorious principle of patriotism, and never was there 
a movement in the annals of nations that had a more 
unanimous support. And when the tocsin of war 
resounded from one end of the country to the other, 
and reverberated over hills and through valleys, the 
sons and sires in the beautiful sunny South, from the 
high-born and cultured gentleman in whose veins 
flowed the blue blood of the cavalier, to the humblest 
tiller of the soil and the shepherd on the mountain 
sides, buckled on the paraphernalia of warfare and 
reported for duty— a willing oblation on the altar of 
his country. To arms ! To arms ! was the patri- 
otic appeal of a people who had no other redress ; 
and I repeat with emphasis that never a people re- 
sponded with more chivalrous alacrity, or more ear- 
nestness of purpose. 



I was too well versed in the politics of the country'' 
— too familiar with the underground workings of the 
enemy — to hesitate. I, too, enlisted in the struggle^ 
and in the glorious effort to establish "home rule and 
domestic felicity" — not literally in the ranks of the 
soldier, but in the great army of women, who were 
willing to toil and to suffer, and to die if need be 
for the cause of the South. 

I had but one brother,— a darling young half- 
brother, Thomas J . Stokes — who had gone to Texas to 
practice his chosen profession. With all the intensity 
of my ardent nature I loved this brother, and would 
have died to save him ; and yet, with the perils in- 
volved , it was with a thrill of pride I read his long letter 
breathing the patriotism illustrated by our ancestry 
in the revolutionary struggle for American Independ- 
ence. And now I and this noble brother, though 
widely separated, enlisted in aid of the same great 
cause — the perpetuity of constitutional rights — he to 
serve on the battlefield, and I to care for the sick and 
wounded soldiers, or to labor in any capacity that 
would give greatest encouragement to our cause. 



Life in Dixie During the War. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE MAGNOLIA CADETS. 

Notwithstanding the restful signification of "Ala- 
bama," the State bearing that name "had passed the 
ordinance of secession, and mingled her voice with 
those of other States which had previousl3'' taken 
steps in that direction. 

Then followed a call for a convention, having in 
view^ the election of a President of a new Republic to 
take its place among the nations of the earth, and to 
be known throughout the world as the Southern 
Confederacy. As an intensely interested spectator 
I was at that convention ; and will remember, to my 
dying day, that grand spectacle. Yea, that was a 
grand and solemn occasion— that of issuing a man- 
date '^Let there be another nation, and there was an- 
other nation." In the course of human events it re- 
quires centuries to evolve such moral courage, and 
sublimity of thought and action ; and, the proceedings 
of that dsij will stand out in bold relief as the acme 
of patriotic greatness. 

Ah ! that scene at the capitol of the State of Ala- 
bama, when Jefferson Davis, the chosen leader of the 
Southern people, took the oath of office and pledged 
undying fidelity to the best interests of his own 
sunny land. 



16 LIFE IN DIXIE 

On that momentous occasion not a word was tittered 
denunciatory of the States we were seeking to leave 
in their fancied superiority, and the great concourse 
of people there assembled was too familiar with the 
history of the times to require recapitulation of the 
causes of the alienation which led by rapid ascent to 
the summit of discontent, and determination to no 
longer submit to the domination of an enemy. 

That scene being enacted as a preliminary, a call 
was made for Alabama's quota of volunteers to de- 
fend the principles enunciated and the interests in- 
volved. 

The Magnolia Cadets, under the leadership of Cap- 
tam N. H.R.Dawson, of Selma, were among the first 
to respond. I accompanied my cousins of Alabama 
to see this company of noble, handsome young men 
mustered into the military service of their country. 
It was a beautiful sight ! Wealthy, cultured young 
gentlemen voluntarily turning their backs upon 
the luxuries and endearments of affluent homes, and 
accepting in lieu the piivations and hardships of war- 
fare; thereby illustrating to the world that the con- 
flict of arms consequent upon the secession was not to 
be "a rich man's war and a poor man's fight." 

I saw them as they stood in line to receive the ele- 
gant silken banner, bearing the stars and bars of 
a new nation, made and presented to them by Miss 
Ella Todd and her sister, Mrs. Dr. White, of Lexing- 
ton, Kentucky, who were introduced to the audience 
by Captain Dawson as the sisters of Mrs. Abraham 
Lincoln, the wife of the President of the United 
States. 



DURING THE WAR. 17 

I was thus made aware that Mrs. Lincoln and her 
illustrious husband were Southerners. I have since 
been in the small, mud-chinked log cabin in Eliza- 
bethtown, Kentucky, in which he was born, and in 
which his infancy and little boyhood were domi- 
ciled. Mrs. White had married an Alabamian, and as 
his wife became a citizen of his State. Her sister, 
Miss Todd, was visiting her at the enactment of the 
scene described, and, under like circumstances, also be- 
came a citizen of Alabama. She married the valiant 
gentleman who introduced her to the public on that 
memorable occasion. 



18 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER II. 

THE WAR RECORD OF DeKALB COUNTY. 



DeKalb county, Georgia, of which Decatur is the 
county site, was among the first to enroll troops for 
the Confederate service. The first volunteers from 
Decatur were James L. George, Hardy Randall, L. 
J. Winn, and Beatty Wilson, who went with the At- 
lanta Greys, the last of May, 1861. 

The first company from DeKalb county was that of 
Captain John W. Fowler. It was called the DeKalb 
Light Infantry, and was mustered into service in 
Atlanta as part of the Seventh Georgia Volunteers, 
and left for Virginia on the 1st of June, 1861. Those 
going from DeKalb county in this company, were 
FirstLieutenant, John J. Powell; Second Lieutenant, 
John M. Hawkins; Third Lieutenant, James L. Wil- 
son; P'irst Sergeant, M. L. Brown; Second Ser- 
geant, D. C. Morgan; Third Sergeant, D. E. Jack- 
son; Fourth Sergeant, John W. Fowler, Jr.; Corpo- 
rals H. H. Norman, W. L. Norman, R. F.Davis, G. W. 
L. Powell. Privates W. W. Bradbury, E. M. Cham- 
berlain, W. W. Morgan, W. L. Herron, P. H. Pate, C. 
E. McCulloch, James W. McCulloch, L. C. Powell, H. 
G. Woodall, J. S. Woodall, A. W. Mashburn, V. A. 
Wilson, W.J. Mason, J. V. Austin, W.M.Austin, 
John Eads, E. A. Davis, Dr. A. S. Mayson, John W. 
Norman, E. L. Morton, Henry Gentry, W. M. Cochran, 



1 



DURING THE WAR, 19 

J. B. Cochran, James Hunter, W. W. Brim m, William 
Carroll, C. W. McAllister, J. O. McAllister, and many 
others from the county, making it a full company. 

The second company from DeKalb was the 
Stephens Rifles, Captain L. J. Glenn. They went 
into Cobb's Legion about August, 1861. Dr. Liddell, 
Frank Herron, Norman Adams, JohnMcCulloch, and 
some others went from Decatur in this company. 
The third company was the Murphy Guards, Captain 
John Y. Flowers. They came from the upper part 
of the county, near Doraville. The fourth company 
was the Bartow Avengers, Captain William Wright, 
from the lower part of the county, about South River. 
The fifth company. Captain Rankin, was from Stone 
Mountain. These three companies went into the 
38th Georgia Regiment, in September, 1861, and 
belonged to the Virginia army. The sixth company, 
Captain Mortons, entered service the last of August, 

1861, in the 36th Georgia Regiment, and was with 
the Western army, under Johnston. The seventh 
company. The Fo^er Guards, Captain Clay, went 
into the 42d Georgia Regiment in the early part of 

1862, and w^as also in the Western army. 

There were several companies, mostly composed of 
DeKalb county men, that were made up and went 
from the camp of instruction near Decatur. M. L. 
Brown was captain of one, and L. D. Belisle of 
another. Besides the companies already named, 
all of which went into the infantry, there were many 
soldiers from DeKalb that went into the cavalry 
and artillery service of the regular army. There were 
also several companies of old men and boys who were 



20 LIFE IN DIXIE 

in the State service. One of these companies was 
commanded by Captain Milton A. Candler. Before 
we lose sight of these soldiers, so soon to meet the 
fortunes of war, let us recall some incidents that jDre- 
ceded their departure. On the northern side of the 
court-house square there stood a large building, the 
residence of Mr. Ezekiel Mason. Here, day after lay, 
a band of devoted women met to make the uniforms 
for the DeKalb Light Infantry. These uniforms 
had been cut by a tailor, but they were to be made 
by women's hands. Among the leading and direct- 
ing spirits in this work were Mrs. Jonathan B. 
Wilson, Mrs. Joseph Morgan, Mrs. Ezekiel Mason, 
Mrs. Levi Willard, Miss Anna Davis, Mrs. James 
McCulloch, Miss Sallie McCulloch, and Miss Lou 
Fowler. The most of this sewing was done by hand. 
To the DeKalb Light Infantry, the day before its 
departure, a beautifyl silken banner was given. 
The ladies of the village furnished the material. The 
address of presentation was made by Miss Mollie G. 
Brown. In September of that same year, my sister 
was invited to present a banner to Captain William 
Wright's company. Her modest little address was 
responded to in behalf of the company, by Rev. Mr. 
Mashburn of the Methodist church. In March, 1862, 
there was another banner presented from the piazza 
of the ''Mason corner." This time to the Fowler 
Guards, by Miss Georgia Hoyle. This banner was 
made by the fair hands of Miss Anna E. Davis. By 
this time the spirit of independence of the outside 
woild had begun to show itelf in the southern-made 



DURING THE WAR. 21 

grey jeans of the soldiers, and the homespun dress of 
Miss Hoyle. 

This banner, so skillfully made by Miss Anna Davis, 
had a circle of white stars upon a field of blue, and 
the usual bars of red and white — two broad red 
bars with a white one between. The banner of this 
pattern was known as the ^'stars and bars," and was 
of the kind first used by the Confederate States. But 
in the smoke of battle it looked so much like "the 
star and stripes," that a battleflag was designed and 
adopted. In May, 1863, the Confederate Congress 
adopted a national flag which had a crimson field 
with white stars in a blue-grounded diagonal cross, 
the remainder of the flag being white. But when 
falling limp around the stafi*, and only the white 
showing, it could easily^be mistaken for a flag of 
truce; therefore, in March, 1865, the final change 
was made by putting a red bar across the end of the 
flag. 

But what of the fate of these gallant young men, 
going forth so full of hope and courage with tender 
and loving farewells lingering in their hearts? 

Ah ! soon, so soon, some of them fell upon the crim- 
son field of Virginia. James L.George ("Jimmie," as 
his friends lovingly called him) was killed in the first 
battle of Manassas. ''Billy" Morgan died soon after 
the battle, and was buried with military honors in a 
private cemetery near Manassas. Two years after, 
his brother, DeWitt Morgan, worn out in the siege 
of Vicksburg, was buried on an island in Mobile Bay. 
At the second battle of Manassas, James W. McCul- 
loch and James L. Davis were both killed. Later on, 



22 LIFJS IN DIXIE 

W. J. Mason, William Carroll, John M. Eads, H. H. 
Norman, Billy Wilson and Norman Adams, were 
numbered among the slain. Among the wounded 
were Henry Gentry, Mose Brown, John McCuUoch, 
W. W. Brimm, Dave Chandler, Riley Lawhorn and 
Bill Herring. 

The soldiers who went to Virginia knew from their 
own experience the scenes of Manassas, Malvern Hill, 
Fort Harrison, Sharpsbnrg, Fredericksburg, Gettys- 
burg, and the Wilderness. Yet some of them were 
left to be surrendered by Lee at Appomattox Court- 
house. The companies which were in the Western 
army were in the leading battles of that division, and 
were equally brave and abiding in their devotion to 
the cause. 

For the foregoing fact^ concerning the troops 
from DeKalb, I am greatly indebted to Mr. Robert 
F. Davis, who went with DeKalb's first company, 
and who, after braving the perils of the war, came off 
unscathed. He still lives near Decatur, and is an 
elder in the Presbyterian church. 



DURING THE WAR. 23 



CHAPTER III. 

LABORS OF LOVE. 

Musical — Decatur. 

To a woman who lives and moves and has her 
being in the past, an invocation to time to ''turn 
backward in its flight," would seem superfluous. The 
scenes of other years being ever present, it would also 
seem that time, as a loving father, would linger 
fondly around her with panaceas for decay, men- 
tal and physical; that her heart would never grow 
old, and her person never lose the attractions of 
youth; but, in the economy of Him who doeth all 
things well, such is not the decree regarding aught 
that is mortal. And when the ravages incident to 
one's career have destroyed personal charm, and di- 
vested the mind of sparkling gem, the soul yearns for 
the protection of childhood and the companionship 
of youth. Scenes of the past, though dyed with 
^'the blood of martyrs," are ever passing in 
kaleidoscopic beauty before the mind's eye, and tones 
too sweet for mortal ear are ever thrilling the heart 
with strange, sweet, expectant pleasure. This train 
of reflection, only far more elaborate, seized for its 
guiding star, on this occasion, a scene which at the 
time of its enactment w^as indelibly impressed upon 
my mind, and left living, glowing tints, illuming my 
pathway through subsequent life; a scene in which 



24 LIFE IN DIXIE 

lovely girlhood, arrayed in pure white robes, lent a 
helping hand in the important -work of supplying our 
soldiers with comforts, all the more appreciated be- 
cause of the source from which emanating. With 
closed eyes, I see it now and listen to its enchanting 
melody. To render it more realistic than could be 
done by any description of mine, I subjoin a copy of 
the 'VProgramme," the original of which I have pre- 
served : 

GRAND MUSICAL ENTERTAINMENT ! 

RELIEF FUND 

FOR OUR SOLDIERS, 

THURSDAY, MAY 15, 1862, 

AT THE COURTHOUSE. 

By the ladies of Decatur, Georgia, assisted by WiL 
Ham H. Barnes, Colonel Thomas F. Lowe, Rrofessor 
Hanlon, W. A. Haynes, R.O.Haynes, Dr. Geutebruck, 
and Dr. Warmouth, of Atlanta. 

' PROGRAMME. 

Part I. 

1. Opening Chorus — Company. 

2. Piano Duet— ''March from Norma" — Miss Geor- 
gia Hoyle, and Miss Missouri Stokes. 

3. Solo— ''Roy Neil"— Mrs. Robert Alston. 

4. Quartette— Atlanta Amateurs. 

5. "Tell Me Ye Winged Winds"— Company. 

6. "Our Way Across the Sea"— Miss G. Hoyle and 
Professor Hanlon. 



DURING THE WAR. 25 

7. March — Piano Duet— Miss Laura Williams and 
Miss Fredonia Hoyle. 

8. Solo — Professor Hanlon. 

9. Comic Song — W. H. Barnes. 

10. Violin Solo — Colonel Thomas F. Lowe. 
11.. Solo— Dr. Warmouth. 

12. ''When Night Comes O'er the Plain"— Miss 
M. Stokes and Professor Hanlon. 

13. ''The Mother's Farewell"— Mrs. Maggie 
Benedict. 

Part II. 

1. Chorus — "Away to the Prairie" — Company. 

2. Piano Solo— Miss G. Hoyle. 

3. Song — Atlanta Amateurs. 

4. Coquette Polka— Misses Hoyle and Stokes . 

5. Chorus — "Let us Live with a Hope" — Company. 

6. "Mountain Bugle"— Miss M. Stokes and Com- 
pany. 

7. "Mazurka des Traineaux" — Piano Duet — Misses 
Hoyle and Stokes. 

8. Shiloh Retreat— Violin-Colonel Thomas F. 
Lowe. 

Concluding with the battle song: "Cheer, Boys, 
Cheer"— W. H. Barnes. 

Tickets, 50c. Children and Servants, half-price. 

Doors open 7 :30 o'clock. Commence at 8 :15 o'clock. 

Atlanta Intelligencer Power. Print. 



26 LIFE IN DIXIE 

LABORS OF LOVE. I 

Musical — Atlanta . 

The citizens of Decatur were always invited to en- i^ 
tertainments, social, literary, and musical, in Atlanta, l' 
that had in view the interest, pleasure or comfort of 
our soldiers ; therefore, the invitation accompanying 
the following programme received ready response. 

TWELFTH MUSICAL SOIREE 

—of the— 

ATLANTA AMATEURS, 

Monday Evening, June 24, 1861, 

For the Benefit of 

ATLANTA VOLUNTEERS, 

Captain Woddail, 

and the 

CONFEDERATE CONTINENTALS, 

Captain Seago, 

Who Are Going to Defend Our Land. 

Let all attend and pay a parting tribute to our brave 

soldiers. 

PROGRAMME. 

Part I. 

1. We Come Again— (Original) — Company. 

2. Dreams— (A Reverie)— Miss J. E. Whitey. 

3. Violin Solo— (Hash)— Colonel Thomas F. Lowe. 

4. "Not for Gold or Precious Stones"— Miss R. J. 
Hale. 



BUBING THE WAB. 27 

5. Yankee Doodle — According to W. A. Haynes. 

6. Dixie Variations— Mrs. W. T. Farrer. 

7. ''Two Merry Alpine Maids''— Misses M. F. and 
J. E. Whitney. 

8. ''When I Saw Sweet Nellie Home"— Misses Sas- 
seen and Judson. 

9. "Root Hog or Die"— W. H. Barnes. 
Instrumental Trio "La Filledu Regiment" — Messrs. 

Schoen and Heindl. Vermicelli, (Variations) — W. H. 
Barnes and Openheimer. 

Part II. 

1. "Our Southern Land"— C. P. Haynes and Com- 
pany. 

2. "Through Meadows Green"— Miss M. F. Whit- 
ney.* 

3. Solo— Thomas D. Wright. 

4. "Home, Sweet Home"— Miss R. J. Hale. 

5. Violin Exemplification— Col. Thomas F. Lowe. 

6. "Happy Days of Yore" — Mrs. Hibler. 

7. Quartette — (original) — Misses Whitney, Messrs. 
Barnes and Haynes. 

8. "Rocked in the Cradle of the Deep"— Prof. 
Hanlon. Encore — Ballad. 

9. "I Come, I Come"— Misses Sasseen, Westmore- 
land and Sims. 

The whole to conclude w^ith the grand original 



*This lady, Miss "Frank" Whitney, is now tlie wife of Mr. Charles W. Hub- 
ner, the well-known Atlanta poet. 



28 LIFE IN DIXIE 

TABLEAU, 

(In Two Parts) 

The Women and Children of Dixie Rejoicing Over 

the Success of the Confederate Banner. 



Scene 1. The Children of Dixie. 

Scene 2. The Women— The Soldiers— Our Flag— Bril 
liant Illumination. 

Doors open at half -past 7 o'clock. Curtain will 
rise at half-past 8 o'clock. 

Tickets, Fifty Cents. Ushers will be on hand to 
seat audience. 

W. H. BARNES, Manager. 






BUBING THE WAR. 29 



CHAPTER lY. 

LABORS OF LOYE. 

Knitting and Sewing, and Writing Letters to "Our Soldiers." 

A patriotic co-operation between the citizens of De- 
catur and Atlanta soon sprang up, and in that, as in 
all things else, a social and friendly interchange of 
thought and feeling and deed existed ; and we were 
never so pleased as when aiding each other in the 
preparation of clothing and edibles for "our sol- 
diers," or in some way contributing to their comfort. 

Many of us who had never learned to sew became 
expert handlers of the needle, and vied with each other 
in producing well-made garments ; and I 
became a veritable knitting machine. Besides the dis- 
charge of many duties incident to the times and tend- 
ing to useful results, I knitted a sock a day, long and 
large, and not coarse, many days in succession. At 
the midnight hour the weird click of knitting needles 
chasing each other round and round in the formation 
of these useful garments for the nether limbs of "our 
boys," was no unusual sound ; and tears and orisons 
blended with woof and warp and melancholy sighs, 
For at that dark hour, when all other sounds were 
shut out, we dared to listen with bated breath to 
"the still, small voice" that whispered in no unmistak- 
able language suggestions which would have been 
rebuked in the glare of the noonday sun. 



30 LIFE IN DIXIE 

No mother nor sister nor wife, nor aunt of a Con- 
federate soldier, need be told what were the depressing 
suggestions of that "still, small voice" on divers occa- 
sions. 

When the knitting of a dozen pairs of socks was 
completed, they were washed, ironed and neatly folded 
by one of our faithful negro women, and I then re- 
sumed the work of preparing them for their destina- 
tion. Each pair formed a distinct package. Usually 
a pretty necktie, a pair of gloves, a handkerchief and 
letter, deposited in one of the socks, enlarged 
the package. When all was ready, a card bear- 
ing the name of the giver, and a request to 
''inquire within," was tacked on to each pack- 
age. And then these twelve packages ^were formed 
into a bundle, and addressed to an officer in command 
of some company chosen to be the recipient of the 
contents. 

I will give a glimpse of the interior of my letters to 
our boys. These letters were written for their spirit- 
ual edification, their mental improvement and 
their amusement. 

"Never saw T the righteous forsaken." 

"Full many a gem of purest ray serene, 

The dark unf athomed caves of ocean bear ; 
Full many a flower is born to" blush unseen, 
And waste its sweetness on the desert air." 

—31. A. H. G. 

P. S. — "Apples are good but peaches are better; 

If youlove me, you will write me a letter." — M. 



DURING THE WAR. 31 

''Remember now thj Creator in the days of thy 
youth.'- 

'*If in the early morn of Hfe, 

You give yourself to God, 
He'll stand by you 'mid earthly strife, 

And spare the chast'ning rod." — Mary, 

P. S. — ''Roses are red and violets blue. 

Sugar is sv^eet and so are you." — M. 

"Love thy neighbor as thyself." 

"May every joy that earth can give 

Around thee brightly shine ; 
Remote from sorrow may you live, 

And all of heaven be thine' ^— Mary. 

P.S.—Remember me when this you see, 

Though many miles apart we be.— ilf. 

"Love worketh no ill to his neighbor; therefore 
love is the fulfillment of the law." 

"This above all— to thine own self be true, 
And it must follow as night the day, 
Thou canst not then be false to any one." 

P. S.— "Sure as the vine twines round the stump, 
You are my darling sugar lump." — M. 

"The night is far spent, the day is at hand; let 
us therefore, cast off the works of darkness and let 
us put on the armour of light." 



32 LIFE IN DIXIE 

''As for my life, it is but short, 

When I vshall be no more; 
To part with hfe I am content, 

As any heretofore. 
Therefore, good people, all take heed, 

This warning take by me — 
According to the lives you lead, 

Rewarded you shall be." — Mary. 

P. S. — "My pen is bad, my ink is pale, 

My love for j^'ou shall never fail." — M. 

"Blessed are the peacemakers; for they shall be 
called the children of God." 

"The harp that once through Tara's halls 

The soul of music shed. 
Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls, 

As if that soul were fled. 
So sleeps the pride of former days, 

So glory's thrill is o'er; 
And hearts that once beat high for praise 

Now feel that pulse no more. 
No more to chiefs and ladies bright 

The harp of Tara swells ; 
The chord alone that breaks at night 

Its tale of ruin tells. 
Thus Freedom, now so seldom wakes, 

The only throb she gives 
Is when some heart indignant breaks 

To shov^ that still she lives." — Mary. 

P. S. — "My love for you will ever flow. 

Like water down a tater row." — M 



DURING THE WAR, 33 

''The earth is the Lord's and the fulness thereof; 
the world and they that dwell therein. 

''For He hath founded it upon the seas, and estab- 
lished it upon the floods . 

"Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord, or who 
shall stand in his holy place? 

"He that hath clean hands and a pure heart; who 
hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity nor sworn de- 
ceitfully." 

"Know thyself, presume not God to scan. 
The proper study of mankind is man." — Mary. 

P. S. — "Round as the ring that has no end, 

Is my love for you, my own sweet friend." — M. 

"God is love." 

"Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth, 
Fooled by those rebel powers that there array, 

Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth, 
Painting thy outward walls so costly gay? 

Why so large cost, having so short a lease, 
Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend? 

Shall worms, inheritors of this excess. 
Eat up thy charge? Is this thy body's end?" — Mary. 

P. S. — "If you love me as I love you. 

No knife can cut our love in two." — M. 

"But this I say. He that soweth sparingly shall 
reap also sparingly ; and he which soweth bounti- 
fully, shall reap also bountifully. Every man accord- 
ing as he purposeth in his heart, so let him give, not 
grudgingly, or of necessity ; for God loveth a cheer- 
ful giver." 



34 LIFE IN DIXIE 

'^Before Jehovah's awful throne, 
Ye nations bow with sacred joy ; 

Know that the Lord is God alone; 
He can create and He destroy." — Mary. 

P, S.— ^'AboYC, below, in ocean, earth and skj^ 

Nothing's so pretty as your blue eye." — M. 



\ 



^'I am come a light into the world, that whoso- 
ever believeth on Me should not abide in darkness." 

''And neither the angels in heaven above, 
Nor the demons down under the sea, 

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul 
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee." — Mary. 

P. S, — ''Remember me! Remember me! 

When this you see — Remember me!" — M. 

"The Lord shall command the blessing upon thee 
in the storehouses, and in all that thou settest thine 
hand unto." 

"Lives of great men all remind us. 

We can make our lives sublime. 
And departing, leave behind us, 

Foot-prints on the sands of Time." — Mary, 

P. S.— ^"Remember well and bear in mind, 
A pretty girl's not hard to find ; 
But when you find one nice and (js.y 
Hold on to her both night and day. — M. 

"He that covereth his sins shall not prosper; 
but whoso confesseth and forsaketh them shall have 
mercy." 



DUBING THE WAR. 35 

''I'd give my life to know thy art, 

Sweet, simple, and divine; 
I'd give this world to melt one heart. 

As thou hast melted mine." — Mary. 

S. — ''As the earth trots round the sun, 
My love for you will ever run." — M. 



LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER V. 

THE THIRD MARYLAND ARTILLERY. 

Some Old Songs. 

At some time in 1863, it was my privilege to meet a 
gallant* band of men whose faith in the justice of 
our cause was so strong that they were constrained 
to turn their faces Southward and imperil their lives 
in its defence. These men represented the highest 
type of manhood in Maryland. 

Sickness entered their camp, and the good ladies of 
Decatur insisted upon providing the comforts of home 
for the sick and wounded. Those to whom it was 
m^^ privilege to minister belonged to the Third Mary- 
land Artillery, under command of Captain John B. 
Rowan. 

Among them was one whose appreciation of kind- 
ness shown him ripened into an undying friendship. 
Captain W. L. Ritter, a devoted Christian gentleman, 
and now an elder in Doctor LeFevre's Church, Bal- 
timore. 

His fondness for that beautiful Southern song, by 
James R. Randall, entitled ' 'Maryland, My Mary- 
land !" was truly pathetic. 

I subjoin the words to stir up the souls of our 
people by w ay of remembrance : 



DURING THE WAR, 37 



MARYLAND, MY MARYLAND. 

The despot's heel is on thy shore, 

Maryland, My Maryland! 
His touch is on thy temple door, ' 

Maryland, My Maryland . 
Avenge the patriotic gore, 
That flowed the streets of Baltimore, 
And be the battle-queen of yore, 

Maryland, My Maryland. 

Hark to a wand' ring son's appeal, 

Maryland, My Maryland ! 
My mother state to thee I kneel, 

Maryland, My Maryland. 
For life and death, for woe and weal, 
Thy peerless chivalry reveal. 
And gird thy beauteous limbs with steel, 

Maryland, My Maryland, 

Thou wilt not cower in the dust, 

Maryland, My Maryland ! 
Thy beaming sword shall never rust, 

Maryland, My Maryland. 
Remember Carroll's sacred trust, 
Remember Howard's warlike thrust, 
And all thy slumberers with the just, 

Maryland, My Maryland. 

Come, 'tis the red dawn of day, 

Maryland, My Maryland! 
Come with thy panoplied array, 

Maryland, My Maryland. 
With Ringgold's spirit for the fray. 
With Watson's blood at Monterey, 
With fearless Lowe and dashing May ; 

Maryland, My Maryland. 



38 LIFE IN DIXIE 



Dear Mother! burst thy tyrant's chain 

Maryland, My Maryland ! 
Virginia should not call in vain, 

Maryland, My Maryland. 
She meets her sisters on the plain, 
"Sic Semper," 'tis the proud refrain 
That baffles minions back again, 

Maryland, My Maryland. 

Come! for thy shield is bright and strong^ 

Maryland, My Maryland. 
Come! for thy dalliance does thee wrong, 

Maryland, My Maryland. 
Come to thy own heroic throng, 
That stalks with liberty along, 
And give a new Key to thy song, 

Maryland, My Maryland. 

I see the blush upon thy cheek, 

Maryland, My Maryland! 
But thou wast ever bravely meek, 

Maryland, My Maryland ! 
But, lo! there surges forth a shriek 
From hill to hill, from creek to creek 
Potomac calls to Chesapeake 

Maryland, My Maryland. 

Thou wilt not yield the vandal toll, 

Maryland, My Maryland! 
Thou wilt not crook to his control 

Maryland, My Maryland. 
Better the fire upon thee roll. 
Better the shot, the blade, the bowl, 
Than crucifixion of the soul, 

Maryland, My Maryland. 



DURING THE WAR. 39 

I hear the distant thunder hum, 

Maryland, My Maryland! 
The Old Line bugle, life and drum, 

Maryland, My Maryland. 
She is not dead, nor deaf nor dumb — 
Huzza! she spurns the Northern scum; 
She breathes! She burns! She'll come, she'll come! 

Maryland, My Maryland. 

An additional verse as sung b3r Mrs. Jessie Clark, 
of Crisp's Co., Friday night, Sept. 12th, 1862. 

Hark! 'tis the cannon's deafning roar, 

Maryland, My Maryland ! 
Old Stonewall's on thy hallow' d shore, 

Maryland, My Maryland. 
Methinks I hear the loud huzza 
Ring through the streets of Baltimore — 
Slaves no longer — free once more 

Maryland, My Maryland. 

There were other songs sung in those days. Some 
of the most popular were '^Bonnie Blue Flag," 
''Dixie," ''Bob Roebuck is my Soldier Boy," "Who 
will Care for Mother Now?" "Her Bright Smile 
Haunts meStill," "LetMeKissHim for His Mother," 
"All Quiet Along the Potomac To-Night," "Rock Me 
to Sleep, Mother," "When I Saw Sweet Nellie Home," 
"Just Before the Battle, Mother." In a collection of 
old music, now never played, there lie before me copies 
of these songs. They were published in various 
Southern cities on paper not firm and smooth, but 
rather thin and coarse, but quite presentable. What 
memories these songs awake ! Where, oh where, are 
those who sang them over thirty years ago ! Who of 
the singers are now living ? How many have gone to 
the Eternal Shore? 



40 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER VI. 



A DARING AND UNIQUE CHASE. 

The Capture and Re-capture of the Raih'oad Engine, 
"The General." 

In the early spring of 1862, there occurred an epi- 
sode of the war which, up to that date, was the 
most exciting that had happened in our immediate 
section. The story has often been told ; but, instead 
of relying upon my memory, I will condense from the 
written statement of Mr. Anthony Murphy, of At- 
lanta, Georgia, who was one of the principal actors 
in the chase. 

Mr. Murphy begins his narrative by saying: ^'On 
Saturday morning, April 12th, 1862, about 4 o'clock, 
I went aboard a passenger train that started then 
for Chattanooga, Tennessee. My business that 
day was to examine an engine that furnished power 
to cut wood and pump water for the locomotives 
at Allatoona, a station forty miles from Atlanta. As 
foreman of machine and motive i:)Ower, it became my 
duty to go that morning. This train was in charge of 
Engineer Jeff Cain, and Conductor W. A. Fuller. It was 
known as a freight and passenger train. The train 
arrived at Marietta, twenty miles from Atlanta, 
shortly after daylight. I stepped from the coach and 
noticed a number of men getting on the car forward 
of the one I rode in. Thej^ were dressed like citizens 
from the country, and I supposed they were volun- 
teers for the army, going to Big vShanty, now known 



DURING THE WAB. 41 

as Kennesaw, a station about eighteen miles from 
Marietta, where troops were organized and for- 
warded to the Confederate army in Virginia and 
other points. At this station the train stopped for 
breakfast, and, as the engineer, conductor, myself 
and the passengers ^^ent to get our meals, no one w^as 
left in charge of the locomotive. I had about finished, 
when I heard a noise as if steam were escaping. Look- 
ing through a window I saw the cars move, saw the 
engineer and fireman at the table, and said to them, 
'Someone is moving j^our engine.' By this time I was 
at the front door, and sa^v that the train was divided 
and passing out of sight." 

Mr. Murphy, the conductor, and the engineer then 
held a brief consultation. He asked about the men 
who got on at Marietta (who afterwards proved to 
be a Federal raiding partj^, Andrews and his men), 
and remarked : "They were the men who took the 
engine and three cars." At the time he thought they 
vsrere Confederate deserters, ^^ho would run the engine 
as far as it would have steam to run, and then aban- 
don it. Mr. M.urph3^ and his two comrades concluded 
that it was their duty to proceed after them. A Mr. 
Kendrick, connected with the railroad, coming up, 
they requested him to go on horseback to Marietta, 
the nearest telegraph station, and communicate with 
the superintendent at Atlanta, while they "put out on 
foot after a locomotive under steam." Knowing they 
would reach a squad of track hands somewhere on 
the line, they had some hope, and they did, in a few 
miles, meet a car and hands near Moon's Station, 
about two miles from Big Shanty. They pressed the 



42 LIFE IN DIXIE 

car, and two hands to propel it, which propelling was 
done by poles pressed against the ties or ground, and 
not by a crank. Soon they reached a pile of cross-ties 
on the track, and found the telegraph wire cut. Clear- 
ing off the ties, they pressed on until they reached 
Acworth station, six miles from Big Shanty. There 
they learned that the train they were pursuing had 
stopped some distance from the depot, and after hav- 
ing been carefully examined by its engineer had 
moved off at a rapid rate. This satisfied the pur- 
suers that the capturers of the engine "meant some- 
thing more than deserters would attempt;" and then 
they "thought of enemies from the Federal army." 
Says the narrator: "We moved on toAllatoona. At 
this place we received tw^o old guns, one for Fuller, 
and one for the writer. I really did not know how 
long they had been loaded, nor do I yet, for we never 
fired them. These were the only arms on our engine 
during our chase. Two citizens went along from 
here, which made about seven men on our little 
pole car. As we proceeded toward Etowah, we 
moved rapidly, being down grade, when suddenly we 
beheld an open place in the track. A piece of rail had 
been taken up by the raiders. Having no brake, we 
could not hold our car in check, and plunged into 
this gap, turning over with all hands except Fuller 
and myself, who jumped before the car left the track. 
The little car was put on again, and the poling man 
sent back to the next track gang to have repairs 
made for following trains." 

Arriving at Etowah, the pursuers found the engine 
"Yonah," used by the Cooper Iron Compan}^, and 



DUBING THE WAB. 43 

pressed it into service. They got an open car, and 
stocked it with rails, spikes and tools, and 
moved on to Cartersville. Passing on to Rog- 
ers' Station, they learned that the raiders had 
stopped there for wood and water, telling Mr. 
Rogers that they were nnder military orders, 
and that the engine crew proper v^ere coming on 
behind. At Kingston the raiders had told that they 
were carrying ammunition to General Beauregard, on 
the line of the Memphis and Charleston Railroad, near 
Huntsville, Alabama. At this point the ^^Yonah" was 
sent back to Etow^ah, and the supply car of the pur- 
suers coupled to the engine ''New York.'" But at 
Kingston the Rome Railroad connects with the Wes- 
tern & Atlantic road, and the Rome engine and train 
were in the way. Instead of clearing the track for 
the "New York," the crowd at the Kingston depot, 
having learned the news, took possession of the 
Rome engine and some cars attached, and pulled 
out for the chase, which compelled Mr. Murphy and 
his friends to abandon their outfit and run to get on 
the same train. A few miles were made, when they 
found a pile of cross-ties on the rails, and the telegraph 
wires cut. Clearing the track they moved on, when 
they encountered another gap. Here Messrs. Murphy 
and Fuller, believing that they would meet the engine 
''Texas" w^ith a freight train, left the obstructed train 
and pressed on again on foot, advising the crowd to 
return, which they did. The pursuers met the 
"Texas" two miles from Adairsville, and, motioning 
the engineer to stop, they went aboard and 
turned him back. At Adairsville they learned that 



44 LIFE IN DIXIE 

Andrews had not been long gone. Says the narrator : 
^' About three miles from Calhoun we came in sight 
for the first time of the captured engine, and three 
freight cars. They had stopped to move another 
rail, and were in the act of trying to get it out when 
we came in sight. * * * As we reached them, they cut 
loose one car and started again. We coupled this car 
to our engine, and moved after them. * * * From Re- 
saca to Tilton the road was very crooked, and we 
had to move cautiously. The distance between us 
was short. * * * i feared ambushing by Andrews — re- 
versing the engine and starting it back under an open 
throttle valve. * * * To prevent us closing in on them, 
the end of the box car was broken out, and from this 
they threw cross-ties on the track to check our speed 
and probably derail us. * * * I had a long bar fastened 
to the brake wheel of the tender to give power so 
that four men could use it to help check and stop the 
engine suddenly. I also stood by the reverse lever to 
aid the engineer to reverse his engine, which we had 
to do msLuy times to avoid the cross-ties. 

"Passing through and beyond Tilton, we again came 
in sight. At this point the road has a straight 
stretch of over a mile. A short distance from Tilton 
and just as we rounded the curve, 'The General' with 
the raiders was rounding another curve, leav- 
ing the straight line, giving us a fine view 
for some distance across the angle. * " * The 
fastest run was made at this point. * * * j 
imagine now, as I write this, I see the two 
great locomotives with their human freight speed- 
mg on, one trying to escape, the other endeavor- 



DURING THE WAR. 45. 

ing to overtake, and if such had happened none might 
have been left to give the particulars of that exciting 
and daring undertaking. The chances of battle were 
certainly against us if Andrews had attempted fight." 
Just beyond Dalton the pursuers found the tele- 
gra^Dh ^res.cut. On reaching the ^'tunnel," they were 
satisfied that Andrews was short of wood, or the 
tunnel would not have been so clear of smoke. Pass- 
ing through the tunnel they kept on, and beyond Ring - 
gold, about two miles, the captors left ''The General" 
and made for the woods. The pursuers were in sight 
of them. Mr. Fuller and others started after the 
raiders. Mr. Murphy went on the engine to examine 
the cause of the stop. He found no wood in the fur- 
nace, but plenty of water in the boiler. Says Mr. 
Murphy: 'T took charge of the engine 'General,' 
had it placed on a side-track, and waited for the first 
train from Chattanooga to Atlanta. I reached Ring- 
gold about dark. I went aboard, and reaching Dal- 
ton, the first telegraph station, I sent the first news 
of our chase and the re-capture of the 'General' to 
Atlanta." 



46 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER yil. 

Coming Home from Camp Chase— The faithful servant's gift — A 
glimpse of Confederate braves. 

''A letter from Marse Thomie," said our mail-car- 
rier, Toby, as he got in speaking distance on his re- 
turn from the post-office. 

''What makes you think so?" I said, excitedly. 

''I know his hand-write, and this is it," he said, 
selecting a letter from a large package and handing 
it to me. The very first glimpse of the superscription 
assured me of the correctness of his confident asser- 
tion. 

The letter was addressed to our mother, and bore 
a United States postage stamp, and the beloved sig- 
nature of her only son, Thomas J. Stokes. A thrill of 
gratitude and joy filled our hearts too full for utter- 
ance, as we read : 

''My Dear Mother : I have learned that the soldiers 
of the 10th Texas Infantrj^ will be exchanged for 
United States troops very soon, perhaps to-morrow; 
and then, what happiness will be mine ! I can scarcely 
wait its realization. A visit home, a mother's em- 
brace and kiss, the heart-felt manifestations of the 
love of two fond sisters, and the joy and glad 
expression of faithful servants. I may bring sev- 
eral friends with me, v^hom I know you will wel- 
come, both for my sake and theirs — they are valiant 
defenders of the cause we love. Adieu, dear mother, 
and sisters, until I see you at home, 'home, sweet 
home,' " 



I 



DURING THE WAE. 47 

"Thomie is coming home!" "Thomie Stokes is 
coming home!" was the glad announcement of 
mother, sisters, and friends; and the servants took 
up the intelligence, and told everybody that Marse 
Thomie was coming home, and was going to bring 
some soldiers with him. 

Another day dawned and love's labor commenced 
in earnest. Doors were opened, and rooms venti- 
lated; bed-clothing aired and sunned, and dusting 
brushes and brooms in willing hands removed every 
particle of that much dreaded material of which man 
in all his glory, or ignominy, was created. Furni- 
ture and picture frames were polished and artisti- 
cally arranged. And we beheld the work of the first 
day, and it was good. 

When another day dawned we were up with the 
lark, and his matin notes found responsive melody in 
our hearts, the sweet refrain of which was, '' Thomie 
is coming" — the soldier son and brother. Light 
bread and rolls, rusks and pies, cakes, etc., etc., were 
baked, and sweetmeats prepared, and another day's 
work was ended and pronounced satisfactory. 

The third day, for a generous bonus, ''Uncle 
Mack's" services were secured, and a fine pig was 
slaughtered and prepared for the oven, and also a 
couple of young hens, and many other luxuries too 
numerous to mention. 

When all was ready for the feast of thanksgiving 
for the return of the loved one, the waiting seemed 
interminable. There was pathos in every look, tone, 
and act of our mother — the lingering look at the cal- 
endar, the frequent glance at the clock, told that the 



4S LIFE IN DIXIE 

days were counted, yea, that the hours were num- 
bered. At length the weary waiting ended, and the 
joyous meeting came of mother and son, of sisters and 
brother, after a separation of four years of health 
and sickness, of joy and anguish, of hope and fear. 

As we stood upon the platform of the Decatur 
depot, and saw him step from the train, which we 
had been told by telegram would bring him to us, 
our hearts were filled with consternation and pity, 
and tears unbidden coursed down our cheeks, as we 
looked upon the brave and gallant brother, who had 
now given three years of his early manhood to a 
cause rendered dear by inheritance and the highest 
principles of patriotism, and, in doing so, had him- 
self become a physical wreck. He was lean to 
emaciation, and in his pale face was not a suggestion 
of the ruddy color he had carried away. A constant 
cough, w^hich he tried in vain to repress, betrayed the 
deep inroads which prison life had made upon his 
system; and, in this respect he represented his friends 
— in describing his appearance, we leave nothing un- 
told about theirs . In war-worn pants and faded grey 
coats, they presented a spectacle never to be forgotten. 

Joy and grief contended for the supremacy. We 
did not realize that even a brief period of good nurs- 
ing and feeding ^vvould work a great change in the 
physical being of men just out of the prison pens of 
the frigid North, and wept to think that disease, ap- 
parently so deeply rooted, could not be cured, and 
that they were restored to us but to die. Perceiving our 
grief and divining the cause, our Thomie took us, our 



DURING THE WAR. 49 

mother first, into his arms and kissed us, and said, in 
his old-time way, ''I'll be all right soon." 

And Toby and Telitha, the house servants, came 
in for their share of kindly greeting. 

Thomie then introduced us to Captain Lauderdale, 
Captain Formwalt, and Lieutenant McMurray, 
his Texas friends and comrades in arms. Our cordial, 
heart-felt welcome was appreciated by this trio of 
gentlemen, and to this day we receive from them mes- 
sages of abiding friendship. Captain Lauderdale was 
one of the most perfect gentlemen I ever saw — tall, 
graceful, erect, and finely formed. His face, of Gre- 
cian mould, was faultless; and his hair, black as a 
raven's plumage, and interspersed with grey, would 
have adorned the head of a king. His bearing was 
dignified and yet aifable, and so polished and easy in 
manner as to invite most friendly intercourse. 

Captain Formwalt was also a fine specimen of man- 
hood—free and easy, gay and rollicking. He seemed 
to think his mission on earth was to bring cheerful- 
ness and glee into every household he entered. 

Lieutenant McMurray was imlike either of his 
friends. Apparently cold, apathetic and reserved, he 
repelled all advances tending to cordial relations, 
until well-acquainted, after which he was metamor- 
phosed into a kind and genial gentleman. 

Thomie, dear Thomie, was a boy again, and while 
our guests were refreshing themselves preparatory to 
dinner, he was going all over the house, for every 
nook and corner was endeared by association. He 
opened the piano, and running his fingers over the 
keys, with the grace and ease of his boyhood, he 



50 LIFE IN DIXIE 

plaj^ed accompaniments to his favorite songs/ 'Home 
Again," and "Way Down Upon the Suwanee River," 
trying to sing, but prevented by the irrepressible 
coughing. Then, with nervous hand, he essayed 
''When this Cruel War is Over." Turning away from 
the piano, he went to the library and handled with 
tender care the books he had read in boyhood. Shake- 
speare, Milton, Byron and Moore possessed no inter- 
est for him now ; and Blackstone and Chitty were 
equally ignored. The books his mother and sister 
read to him in his childhood were, as if by intuition, 
selected, and fondly conned and handled. His own 
name was written in them, and his tearful eyes lin- 
gered long and lovingly upon these reminders of boy- 
hood's happy hours. With a sigh he left the library, 
and espying Toby, who kept where he could see as 
much as possible of "Marse Thomie," he called the 
boy and held an encouraging little conversation with 
him. 

Dinner being ready, our mother led the way to the 
dining room. Our guests having taken the seats as- 
signed them, Thomie took his near his mother — his 
boyhood's seat at table. By request. Captain Lau- 
derdale asked the blessing. And, oh, what a blessing 
he invoked upon the "dear ones who, with loving 
hands, prepared this feast for the son and brother 
of the household, and for his friends in peace and 
comrades in war." Pleasant conversation ensued, 
and all enjoyed the repast. But the gentlemen 
seemed to us to eat very little, and, in reply to our ex- 
pression of disappointment, they explained the im- 



DURING THE WAB. 51 

portance of limiting themselves for several days in 
this respect. 

As there was no trunk to send for, and no valise to 
carry, we righth^ surmised that the clothing of these 
good men was limited to the apparel in which thej^ 
were clad, and it was decided by my mother and my- 
self that I should go to Atlanta and get material for 
a suit of clothes for Thomie, and good warm under- 
clothing for them all. Arrived at Atlanta, I was irre- 
sistibly led by that mystic power, which has often 
controlled for good results the acts of man, to go to 
Dr. Taylor's drug store. Here I found King, our 
faithful negro man, as busy as a bee, labeling and 
packing medicine for shipment. 1 approached him and 
said: 

"King, Thomie has come." 

"Marse Thomie?" 

''Yes." 

''Thank God," he said, with fervor. 

When I was about leaving the store, he said : 

"Miss Mary, just wait a minute, please, and I will 
get something that I want you to take to Marse 
Thomie, and tell him I don't want him to be hurt 
with me for sending it to him. I just send it because 
I love him — me and him was boys together, you 
know, and I always thought he ought to 'er took me 
with him to the war." 

"What is it, King?" 

"Just a little article I got in trade. Miss Mary," 
was all the satisfaction he vouchsafed. 

When he handed it to me, knowing by the sense of 
touch that it was a package of dry goods, I took it to 



52 LIFE IN DIXIE 



m 



Mrs. O'Connor's millinery establishment, and asked 
the privilege of opening it there. Imagine my aston- 
ishment and delight, when I beheld a pattern of fine 
grey cassimere. I felt of it, and held it up between 
my eyes and the light. There was nothing shoddy 
about it. It was indeed a piece of fine cassimere, 
finer and better than anything I could have procured 
in Atlanta at that time. The circumstance was sug 
gestive of Elijah and the ravens, and I thanked God 
for the gift so opportune, and lost no time in return- 
ing to the drug store, and thanking King, the raven 
employed by the Lord to clothe one of His little ones. 
Nor did I lose any time in adding to the package other 
articles of necessity, flannel and the best Georgia - 
made homespun I could procure, and was then ready 
to take the return train to Decatur. Thomie was 
deeply touched by the opportune gift, and said that 
King was a great boy, and that he must see him. 

After supper I clandestinely left the house, and ran 
around to Todd McAllister's and begged him to take 
the j ob of making the suit . He agreed to cut the coat,, 
vest and pantaloons by measure, and for that jDur- 
pose went home with me, shears and tape measure in 
hand. Having finished this important part of the 
job, he told me he could not make the suit himself, 
but he thought if I w^ould "talk right pretty to the 
old lady," she would do it. Next morning I lost no 
time in "talking pretty" to the old lady and, having se- 
cured her promise to undertake the work, it was soon 
in her hands. With the help of faithful, efficient 
women, and I suspect of her husband, too, the job 
was executed surprisingly soon. In the meantime 



DURING THE WAR. 53 

the making of flannel garments, and homespun shirts 
with bosoms made of linen pillow-cases, was pro- 
gressing with remarkable celerity. 

When all w^as hnished, and Thomie was arrayed in 
his new suit, which set admirably well — notwith- 
standing the room allowed for increasing dimensions, 
which we doubted not under good treatment he would 
attain — King Solomon, in purple and fine linen, was 
not looked upon with more admiration, than was he 
by his loving mother and sisters. His cough had in 
a measure yielded to remedies, and his cheeks bore 
the tinge of better blood. 

Good Mr. Levi Willard, his wife and children, had 
already been to see Thomie and the strangers within 
our gates, and many others had sent kind mes- 
sages and substantial tokens of regard. And the 
young people of Decatur, young ladies and little boys, 
were planning to give them a surprise party. And 
among these loving attentions was a visit from 
King, the faithful. 

The flowers bloomed prettier, the birds sang sweeter, 
because of their presence ; but time waits for no man, 
and we were admonished by low conversations and 
suggestive looks that these men' oflicers in the armj^ 
of the Confederacy, were planning their departure. 

Many amusing incidents, as w^ell as those of a hor- 
rible character, were told of their prison life in Camp 
Chase. To illustrate the patriotism of Southern men, 
Colonel Deshler, as a prisoner of war, figured conspic- 
uously; and many anecdotes, ludicrous and pathetic, 
quaint and original, revealed the deep devotion of his 
love for the South. In one of these word-paintings, 



54 LIFE IN DIXIE 



i 



he wavS represented as sitting on his legs, darning the 
seat of his pantaloons, when a feminine curiositj^ 
seeker came along. When she perceived his occupa- 
tion, she said with a leer that would have done credit 
to Lucifer : 

"You rebels find it pretty hard work to keep your 
gray duds in order, don't you?" 

Without looking at her, he whistled in musical ca- 
dence the contempt he felt for her and her ilk ; and 
the imprecations, he would not have expressed in 
words, were so distinct and well modulated as to 
leave no doubt as to their meaning. 

The time had come for the nature of the low-toned 
conversations, referred to, to be revealed, and Thomie 
was chosen to make the revelation. Planning to have 
mother and sisters present, he discussed the duties of 
patriotism, and the odium men brought upon them- 
selves by not discharging those duties. Making the 
matter personal, he referred to himself and friends,, 
to the great pleasure and personal benefit derived 
from a week's sojourn at home; of the love for us that: 
would ever linger in their hearts; of the pleasant mem- 
ories that would nerve them in future conflicts ; and 
in conclusion told us that to-morrow they would 
leave us to join their command at Tullahoma, where 
the decimated regiment was to stay until its num- 
bers were sufficiently recruited for service. 

Instead of yielding to grief, we repressed every evi- 
dence of it, and spoke only words of encouragement 
to those noble men who had never shirked a duty, or 
sought bomb-proof positions in the army of the Con- 
federacy. After this interview, Thomie abandoned 



DURING THE WAB. 55 

himself to cheerfulness, to almost boyish gayety. He 
kept very close to his mother. She had grown old so 
rapidly since the troubles began, that she needed all 
the support that could be given her in this ordeal. 
This he perceived without seeming to do so, and left 
nothing within his power undone for her encourage- 
ment. He even discussed w4th perfect equanimity 
the probability, yea, the more than probability, of 
his getting killed in battle; for, said he, ''he that tak- 
eth up the sword, by the sword shall he perish." 
And, he added, "strong, irrepressible convictions con- 
strained me to enter the army in defense of mother, 
home and country. My vote was cast for the seces- 
sion of my state from the union of states which ex- 
isted only in name, and I would not have accepted 
any position tendered me which would have secured 
me from the dangers involved by that step. I was 
willing to give my life, if need be, for the cause which 
should be dear to every Southern heart." 

Everj^ one present responded to these noble senti- 
ments, for were we not soldiers, too, working for 
the same noble cause, and aiding and abetting those 
who fought its battles? 

Before retiring to our rooms. Captain Lauderdale, 
as usual, led in prayer, fervent deep and soul-support- 
ing, more for our mother and ourselves than for him- 
self and his comrades in their perilous positions . And 
dear Thomie, whom I had never heard pray since his 
cradle invocation, 

"Now I lay me down to sleep, 
I pray the Lord my soul to keep." 



56 LIFE IN DIXIE 

finished in words thrilling and beautiful. The effect 
was electrical. Tears and sobs were no longer repressed, 
and all found relief from long pent-up feeling. 0, the 
blessedness of tears ! 

Morning came, clear as crystal, and cool and ex- 
hilarating. The household were up at early dawn. 
A strong decoction of coffee was prepared, and fresh 
cream toast and boiled eggs, meat relishes being 
served cold. Knapsacks — there were knapsacks now — 
were packed, and blankets rolled and buckled in straps, 
and our ebony Confederates, Toby and Telitha, stood 
ready to convey them to the depot. In order to meet 
the morning train at seven o'clock we started, but the 
services of Toby and Telitha were not accepted. The 
gentlemen said it would never do for soldiers to start 
off to report for service with negroes carrying their 
knapsacks and blankets. They had no muskets to 
shoulder, for of these they had been divested at Ar- 
kansas Post, months ago, when captured by the enemy. 

Lieutenant McMurray, who was in very feeble 
health, announced himself unable to report for duty, 
and remained with us several weeks longer. 

The parting at the depot did not betray the grief, 
almost without earthly hope, that was rankling in 
our hearts, and the "good-bye's" and "God bless 
you's" were uttered with a composure we little 
thought at our command. 

As the time of his departure had drawn near, 
Thomie had sought opportunities to tell me much of 
the young girl in Texas, who had healed the lacera- 
tions of his youthful heart, and won the admiration 
of his manhood, and whom he had made his wife. 



t 



-DURING THE WAR. 57 

Upon her devotion he dwelt with peculiar pathos and 
gratitude; and he concluded these conversations 
with the request that under any and all circumstances 
I would be a sister to her. On one of these occasions 
we were standing near the piano, and, when we ceased 
to talk, Thoniie opened it, and in tones that came 
from the heart, and that were tremulous with emo- 
tion, he sang, "When this Cruel War is Over." 

Why sings tlie swan its sweetest notes, 
When life is near its close ? 

Since writing the foregoing, I have had access to a 
journal, kept during the war by my half-sister, Mis- 
souri Stokes, in which are the following entries of his- 
toric value: ''On the 11th of January, 1863, Arkan- 
sas Post, the fort w^here Thomie was stationed, fell 
into the hands of the Yankees. General Churchhill's 
whole command, numbering about four thousand, 
were captured, a few being killed and wounded. We 
knew that Thomie, if alive, must be a prisoner, but 
could hear no tidings from him. Our suspense contin- 
ued until the latter part of March, when ma received 
a letter from our loved one, written at Camp Chase 
(military prison), Ohio, February 10th. This letter she 
forwarded to me, and I received it, March 21st, with 
heart-felt emotions of gratitude to Him who had pre- 
served his life. A few weeks afterw^ards another let- 
ter came, saying he expected to be exchanged in a f ew^ 
days, and then for several wrecks ^we heard no more." 
From this journal I learn that the dateof Thomie's 
airival was Ma^^ 16th, 1863. My sister wrote of 
him: ''He seemed much changed, although only four 



58 LIFE IN DIXIE 

years and a half had elapsed since we parted. He 
looked older, thinner, and more care-worn, and gray 
hairs are sprinkled among his dark brown curls. 
His health had been poor in the army, and then, when 
he left Camp Chase, he, as well as the other prisoners, 
was stripped by the Yankees of nearly all his warm 
clothing. He left the prison in April, and was ex- 
changed at City Point. How strange the dealings 
of Providence. Truly was he led by a way he knew 
not. He went out to Texas by way of the West, and 
returned home from the East. God be thanked for 
preserving his life, when so many of his comrades 
have died. He is a miracle of mercy. After their cap- 
ture, they were put on boats from which Yankee 
small-pox patients had been taken. Some died of 
small-pox, but Thomie has had varioloid and so es- 
caped. He was crowded on a boat with twenty -two 
hundred, and scarcely had standing room. Many died 
on the passage up the river, one poor fellow with his 
head in Tommy's lap. May he never go through 
similar scenes again !" 

From this same journal I take the following, writ- 
ten after Missouri's return to the school she was 
teaching in Bartow count3^ : 

"Sabbath morning, June 14th. Went to Carters- 
ville to church. Some time elapsed before preaching 
commenced. A soldier came in, sat down rather be- 
hind me, then, rising, approached me. It was 
Thomie. I soon found (for we did talk in church) 
that he had an order to join Kirby Smith, with a re- 
commendation from Bragg that he be allowed to re- 
cruit for his regiment. Fortunately there was a va- 



DURING THE IV A B. 59 

cant seat in the carriage, so he went out home with 
us. Monday 15th, Tommy left. I rode with him a 
little beyond the school-house, then took my books 
and basket, and with one kiss, and, on my part, a 
tearful good-b3^e, we parted. As I w^alked slowly 
back, I felt so lonely. He had been with me just long 
enough for me to realize a brother's kind protection^ 
and now he's torn aw^ay, and I'm again alone. I 
turned and looked. He was driving slowly along — he 
turned a corner and w^as hidden from my view. 
Shall I see him no more? Or shall we meet again? 
God only knows. After a fit of weeping, and one ear- 
nest prayer for him, I turned my steps to my little 
school." ^ 

And thus our brother went back to Texas, and 
gladly, too, for was not his Mary there? 

Of Thomie's recall to join his command at Dallas ; 
of his arrival at home the next February, on his way 
to "the front; "of his participation in the hard-fought 
battles that contested the way to Atlanta ; and of 
his untimely death at the fatal battle of Franklin, 
Tennessee, I may speak hereafter. 

Even in the spring and summer of 1863, the shad- 
ows began to deepen, and to hearts less sanguine 
than mine, affairs were assuming a gloomy aspect. I 
notice in this same journal from which I have quoted 
the foregoing extracts, the following: 

"Our fallen braves, how numerous! Among our 
generals, Zollicoffer, Ben McCulloch, Albert Sidney 
Johnson,and the saintly, dauntless Stonewall Jackson, 
are numbered with the dead ; while scarcely a house- 
hold in our land does not mourn the loss of a brave 
husband and father, son or brother." 



<30 LIFE IN DIXIE 

CHAPTER VIII. 
SOME SOCIAL FEATURES. 

Horgan's Men rendezvous near Decatur — Waddell's Artillery — 
Visits from the Texans — Surgeon Haynie and his Song. 

In the winter of 1864 there seems to have been a lull 
of hostilities between the armies at "the front." 
Morgan's men w^ere rendezvousing near Decatur. 
Their brave and dashing chief had been captured, but 
had made his escape from the Ohio penitentiary, and 
v/as daily expected. Some artillery companies were 
camping near, among them Waddell's. There was 
also a conscript camp within a mile or two ; so it is 
not to be wondered at that the young ladies of De- 
catur availed themselves in a quiet way of the social 
enjoyment the times afforded, and that there w^ere 
little gatherings atprivatehouses at which ''Morgan's 
men" and the other soldiers were frequently repre- 
sented. 

Our brother w^as absent in Texas, where he had 
been assigned to duty, but my sister was at home, and 
many an hour's entertainment her music gave that 
winter to the soldiers and to the young people of De- 
caxur. My mother's hospitality- was proverbial, 
and much of our time these wintry months was spent 
in entertaining our soldier guests, and in ministering 
to the sick in the Atlanta hospitals, and in the 
camps and temporary hospitals about Decatur. 

So near were we now to ''the front" (about a hun- 
dred miles distant), that several of my brother's Tex- 



DURING THE WAB. 61 

as comrades obtained furloughs and came to see us. 
Among these were Lieutenants Prendergast and 
Jewell, Captain Leonard and Lieutenant Collins, 
Captain Bennett and Lieutenant Donathan. They 
usually had substantial boots made while here, by 
Smith, the Decatur boot and shoe maker, which cost 
less than those they could have bought in Atlanta. 
We received some very pleasant calls from Mor- 
gan's men and Waddell's Artillery. Among the lat- 
ter we have always remembered a young man from 
Alabama, James Duncan Calhoun, of remarkable in- 
tellectual ability, refreshing candor and refinement of 
manner. Ever since the war Mr. Calhoun has de- 
voted himself to journalism. Among the former we 
recall Lieutenant Adams, Messrs. Gill, Dupries, Clin- 
kmbeard, Steele, Miller, Fortune, Rowland, Baker 
and Dr. Lewis. These gentlemen were courteous and 
intelligent, and evidently came of excellent Kentucky 
and Tennessee families. One evening several of these 
gentlemen had taken tea with us, and after supper 
the number of our guests was augmented by the 
coming of Dr. Ruth, of Kentucky, and Dr. H. B. Hay- 
nie, surgeon of the 14th Tennessee Cavalry. Dr. Hay- 
nie was an elderly, gray -haired man, of fine presence, 
and with the courtly manners of the old school. On 
being unanimously requested, he sang us a song en- 
titled : '^The Wailings at Fort Delaware," which he 
had composed when an inmate of that wretched 
prison. As one of the gentlemen remarked, ''there is 
more truth than poetry in it;" yet there are in it 
some indications of poetic genius, and Dr. Haynie 
sang it with fine effect. 



62 LIFE IN DIXIE flJiJ^^^H 

*'THE WAILINGS AT FORT DELAWAKE." 

By B. H. Haynie, Surgeon 14tli Tennessee Cavalry (Morgan' 
Division). 

Oh ! here we are confined at Fort Delaware, 
With nothing t) drink but a little lager beer, 
Infested by vermin as much as we can bear; 
Oh Jeff, can't you help us to get away from here? 
Chorus — 

And its home, dearest home, the place I ought to be. 
Home, sweet home, way down in Tennessee, 
Where the ash and the oak and the bonny willow tree. 
Are all growing green way down in Tennessee. 

The Island itself will do well enough, 
But the flat-footed Dutch are filthy and rough. 
Oh! take us away from the vandal clan, 
Down into Dixie among the gentlemen . 
Chorus — And its home, dearest home, etc. 

Spoiled beef and bad soup is our daily fare. 
And to complain is more than any dare; 
They will buck us and gag us, and cast us in a cell. 
There to bear the anguish and torments of hell. 
Chorus — 

The den for our eating is anything but clean, 
And the filth upon the tables is plainly to be seen. 
And the smell of putrefaction rises on the air, 
"To fill out the bill" of our daily fare . 
Chorus— 

*"The sick are well treated," as Southern surgeons say, 
"And the losses by death are scarcely four per day;" 
It's diarrhoea mixture for scurvy and small-pox. 
And every other disease of Pandora's box! 
Chorus — 



DURING THE WAR. 68 

Oh! look at the graveyard on the Jersey shore, 
At the hundreds and the thousands who'll return no more; 
Oh I could they come back to testify — 
Against the lying devils, and live to see them die! 
Chokus — 

*"Our kindness to prisoners you cannot deny, 
For we have ihe proof at hand upon which you may rely ; 
It's no Dutch falsehood, nor a Yankee trick, 
But from Southern surgeons who daily see the sick." 
Chorus— 

Our chaplain, whose heart was filled with heavenly joys, 
Asked leave to pray and preach to Southern boys; 
"Oh, no!" says the General, "you are not the man, 
You are a Southern rebel, the vilest of your clan!" 
Chorus — 

Oh! speak out, young soldier, and let your country hear, 
All about your treatment at Fort Delaware; 
How they worked you in their wagons when weary and sad, 
With only half rations, when plenty they had. 
Chorus — 

The barracks were crowded to an overflow. 
Without a single comfort on the soldier to bestow; 
Oh, there they stood shivering in hopeless despair, 
With insufficient diet or clothing to wear! 
Chorus — 

Tlije mother stood weeping in sorrows of woe, 
Mingling her tears with the waters that flow; 
Her son wa^ expiring at Fort Delaware, 
Which could have been avoided with prudence and care. 
Chorus — 



64 LIFE IN DIXIE 

Oh! take off my fetters and let me go free, 
To roam o'er the mountains of old Tennessee; 
To bathe in her waters and breathe her balmy air, 
And look upon her daughters so lovely and fair. 
Chorus — 

Then, cheer up, my brave boys, your country will be free, 
Your battles will be fought by Generals Bragg and Lee; 
And the Yankees will fly with trembling and fear, 
^And we'll return to our wives and sweethearts so dear. 
Chorus — 

And its home, dearest home, the place I ought to be. 
Home, sweet home way down in Tennessee, 
Where the ash and the oak, and the bonny willow tree, 
Are all growing green way down in Tennessee . 



*The fifth and seventh verses are criticisms upon four Southern surgeons, 
who gave the Federal authorities a certificate that our prisoners were well 
treated, and our sick well cared for, and that the average loss by death was 
only four per day. 



DURING THE WAR. 65 



CHAPTER IX. 

THOMIE'S SECOND HOME COMING. 

He leaves for "the front" — His Christian labors in camp — He de- 
scribes the Battle of New Hope Church — The great revival in 
Johnston's Army. 

Early one morning in the February of the winter 
just referred to (that of 1864), as my sister lay 
awake, she heard some one step upon the portico 
and knock. As Toby opened the door, she heard him 
exclaim: ''Why howd'y, Marse Thomie!" Her first 
thought was "now he is back, Justin time to be in 
the battle!" for a resumption of hostilities was daily 
looked for near Dalton. Wc were all greatly sur- 
prised at Thomie's arrival on this side of the Missis- 
sippi, as only a few days before we had received a let- 
ter from him, written, it is true, so long ago as the 
November before, saying he had been assigned to 
duty out in Texas by General Henry McCulloch. But 
the consolidation of the regiments in Granbury's 
brigade having been broken up, he had been ordered 
back to rejoin his old command. He had left Mar- 
shall, Texas, the 28th of January, having made the 
trip in one month, and having walked four hundred 
miles of the way. Under the circumstances, we were 
both glad and sorrowful at his return. After a staj' 
of three days, he left us for ''the front." In the early 
morning of February 29th, we went with him to the 



66 LIFE IN DIXIE 

depot, the last time we four were ever together. 
Parting from him was a bitter trial to our mother, 
who wept silently as we walked back to the desolate 
home, no longer gladdened by the sunny presence of 
the only son and brother. Perhaps nothing will give 
a more graphic impression of some phases of army 
life at this time, nor a clearer insight into our brother's 
character, than a few extracts from his letters writ- 
ten at this period to his sister Missouri, and pre- 
served by her to this day : 

''Dalton Ga., March 15th, 1864.— * * * Our 
regiment takes its old organization as the 10th 
Texas, and Colonel Young has been despatched to 
Texas to gather all the balance, under an order from 
the war department. We are now in Dalton doing 
provost duty (our regiment), which is very unpleasant 
duty. It is my business to examine all papers whenever 
the cars arrive, and it is very disagreeable to have to 
arrest persons who haven't proper papers. The regu- 
lations about the town are very strict. No one under 
a brigadier-general can pass without approved papers . 
My guard arrested General Johnston himself, day be- 
fore yesterday. Not knowing him they wouldn't take 
his word for it, but demanded his papers. The old 
General, very good-humoredly, showed them some 
orders he had issued himself, and being satisfied, they 
let him pass. He took it good-humoredly, while 
little colonels and majors become very indignant and 
wrathy under such circumstances. From which we 
learn, first, the want of good common sense, and, sec- 
ondly, that a great man is an humble man, and does 



DURING THE WAR. 67 

not look with contempt upon his inferiors in rank, 
whatsoever that rank may be. 

''There is a very interesting meeting in progress 
here. I get to go every other night. I have seen sev- 
eral baptized since I have been here. There are in at- 
tendance every evening from six to seven hundred 
soldiers. There are many who go to the anxious 
seat. Three made a profession of religion night be- 
fore last. I am going to-night. There seems to be 
a deep interest taken and God grant the good work 
may go on, until the whole army may be made to feel 
where they vStand before their Maker. Write soon. 
Your affectionate brother, 

Tom Stokes.'* 
From another letter we take the following : 
"Near Dalton, April 5th, 1864.— We have had for 
some wrecks back, very unsettled weather, which has 
rendered it very disagreeable, though we haven't 
suffered; we have an old tent which affords a good 
deal of protection from the weather. It has also in- 
terfered some with our meetings, though there is 
preaching nearly every night that there is not rain. 
Brother Hughes came up and preached for us last 
Friday night and seemed to give general satisfaction. 
He was plain and practical, which is the only kind 
of preaching that does good in the army. He prom- 
ised to come back again. I like him very much. 
Another old brother, named Campbell, whom I heard 
when I was a boy, preached for us on Sabbath eve- 
ning. There was much feeling, and at the close of the 
services he invited mourners to the anxious seat, and 
I shall never forget that blessed half -hour that fol- 



68 LIFE IN DIXIE 

lowed ; from every part of that great congregation 
they came, many with streaming eyes; and, as 
they gave that old patriarch their hands, asked that 
God's people would pray for them. Yes, men who 
never shrank in battle from any responsibility, came 
forward weeping. Such is the power of the Gospel 
of Christ when preached in its purity. Oh, that all 
ministers of Christ could, or would, realize the great 
responsibility resting upon them as His ambassadors. 

Sabbath night we had services again, and also last 
night, both well attended, and to-night, weather per- 
mitting,! will preach. Godhelpme and give me grace 
from on high, that I may be enabled, as an humble 
instrument in His hands, to speak the truth as it 
is in Jesus, for ^none but Jesus can do helpless 
sinners good.' I preached last Sabbath was two 
weeks ago to a large and attentive congregation. 
There seemed to be much seriousness and al- 
though much embarrassed, yet I tried, under God, 
to feel that I was but in the discharge of my duty ; 
and may I ever be found battling for my Savior. 
Yes, my sister, I had rather be an humble follower 
of Christ than to wear the crown of a monarch. 
Remember me at all times at a Throne of Grace, that 
my life may be spared to become a useful minister of 
Christ. 

'* Since my return we have established a prayer- 
meeting in our company, or, rather, a kind of famil3^ 
service, every night after roll call. There is one other 
company which has prayer every night. Captain 
F. is very zealous. There are four in our company 
who pray in public — one sergeant, a private. Cap- 



DURING THE WAR. 69 

tain F. and myself. We take it time about. Weha^e 
cleared tip a space, fixed a stand and seats, and have 
a regular preaching place. I have never seen such a 
spirit as there is now in the army. Religion is the 
theme. Every^where, you hear around the camp-iires 
at night the svsreet songs of Zion. This spirit per- 
vades the whole army. God is doing a glorious work , 
and I believe it is but the beautiful prelude to peace. 
I feel confident that if the enemy should attempt to 
advance, that God will fight our battles for us, and 
the boastful foe be scattered and severely rebuked. 

'^I witnessed a scene the other evening, v^hich did 
my heart good — the baptism of three men in the creek 
near the encampment. To see those hardy soldiers 
taking up their cross and following their Master in 
His ordinance, being buried withHimin baptism, was 
indeed a beautiful sight. I really believe, Missouri, 
that there is more religion no^w in the army than 
among the thousands of skulkers, exempts and spec- 
ulators at home. There are but few now but who 
will talk freel}^ with you upon the subject of their 
soul's salvation. What a change, what a change ! 
when one year ago card playing and prof ane lan- 
guage seemed to be the order of the day. Now, what 
is the cause of this change ? Manifestly the working 
of God's spirit. He has chastened His people, and this 
manifestation of His love seems to be an earnest of 
the good things in store for us in not a far away 
future. 'Whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth, and 
scourgeth every son whom He receiveth.' Let all the 
people at home now, in unison with the army, hum- 
bly bow, acknowledge the aflBicting hand of the Al- 



70 LIFE IN DIXIE 

mighty, ask Him to remove the curse upon His own 
terms, and soon we will hear, so far as our Nation 
is concerned, ^Glor^^ to God in the highest, on earth 
peace, good will toward men !' 

^'I received the articles ma sent by Brother Hughes, 
which were much relished on the top of the coarse 
fare of the army. * * * Write me often. God 
bless you in your labors to do good. 

Your affectionate brother, 

T. J. Stokes." 

From another of those time-stained, but precious 
letters, we cull the following, under the heading of: 

"InCamp,NearDalton,Ga.,April 18,1864.—* * * 
The good work still goes on here. Thirty-one men were 
baptized at the creek below our brigade yesterday, 
and I have heard from several other brigades in which 
the proportion is equally large (though the thirty -one 
were not all members of this brigade). Taking the 
proportion in the v^hole army as heard from (and I 
have only heard from a part of one corps), there must 
have been baptized yesterday 150 persons — maybe 
200. This revival spirit is not confined to a part 
only, but pervades the whole army. * * * Brother 
Hughes was with us the other night, but left again 
the next morning. The old man seemed to have 
much more influence in the army than young men. 
I have preached twice since writing to you, and the 
Spirit seemed to be with me. The second was upon 
the crucifixion of Christ : text in the 53d chapter of 
Isaiah : ' He was wounded for our transgressions 
and bruised for our iniquities.' It was the first time 
in my life, that is, in public speaking, that my feelings 



DUBING THE WAR, 71 

got SO much the mastery of me as to make me weep 
like a child. In the conclusion 1 asked all who 
felt an interest in the prayers of God's people to come 
to the anxious seat. Many presented themselves, 
and I could hear many among them, with sobs and 
groans, imploring God to have mercy on them, and 
I think the Lord did have mercj^ upon them, for ^when 
we opened the door of the church six united with us. 
Every Sabbath you may see the multitude wending 
their way to the creek to see the solemn ordinance typi- 
cal of the death, buiial, and resurrection of our 
Savior. Strange to say that a large number of those 
joining the pedo-Baptist branches prefer being im- 
mersed ; though in the preaching you cannot tell to 
which denomination a man belongs. This is as it 
should be ; Christ and Him crucified should be the 
theme. It is time enough, I think, after one is con- 
Tcrted, to choose his church rule of faith. 

"If this state of things should continue for any 
considerable length of time, we will have in the 
Army of Tennessee an army of believers. Does the 
history of the world record anywhere the like? Even 
Cromwell's time sinks into insignificance. A revival 
so vast in its proportions, and under all the difficul- 
ties attending camp life, the bad weather this spring, 
and innumerable difficulties, is certainly an earnest of 
better, brighter times not far in the future." 

To the believer in Jesus, we feel sure that these ex- 
tracts concerning this remarkable work of grace, will 
prove of deep interest; so we make no apologies for 
quoting in continuation, the following from another 



72 LIFE IN DIXIE 



of those letters of our soldier brother, to whom the 
conquests of the cross were the sweetest of all themes: 
"NearDalton, April 28th, 1864 —My Dear Sister : 
I should have written sooner but have been very much 
engaged, and when not engaged have felt more like 
resting than writing, and, to add to this. Sister Mar}^ 
very agreeably surprised me by coming up on last 
Saturday. She left on Tuesday morning for home. 
While she was at Dalton, I went down on each day 
and remained until evening. I fear ma and sister are 
too much concerned about me, and therefore render 
themselves unhappy. Would that the3^ could trust 
God calmly for the issue. And I fear, too, that they 
deny themselves of many comforts, that they may 
furnish me with what I could do (as many have to 

do) without. 

****** 

"The great unexampled revival is fast increasing in 
interest. I have just returned from the creek, where 
I saw thirty -three buried with Christ in baptism, 
acknowledging there before two thousand persons, 
that they were not ashamed to follow Jesus in His 
ordinance. My soul was made happy in witnessing 
the solemn scene. In that vast audience everything 
was as quiet and respectful as in a village chapel; and, 
by the way, I have seen village congregations who 
might come here and learn to behave. General Low^ry 
baptized about thirteen of them who were from his 
brigade. He is a Christian, a soldier and a zealous 
preacher, and his influence is great. It was truly a 
beautiful sight to see a general baptizing his men. 
He preaches for our brigade next Sabbath. I preached 



DURING THE WAR, 73 

for General Polk's brigade night before last, and we 
had a very interesting meeting. They have just begun 
there, yet I had a congregation of some 400. At the 
conclusion of the services, I invited those who desired 
an interest in our prayers to manifest their desire by 
coming to the altar. A goodly number presented 
themselves, and we prayed with them. I shall preach 
for them again very soon. The revival in our brigade 
has continued now for four weeks, nearly, and many 
have found peace with their Savior. If we could 
remain stationary a few weeks longer, I believe the 
greater portion of the army would be converted. 
This is all the doings of the Lord, and is surely the 
earnest of the great deliverance in store for us. Thi& 
is the belief of many, that this is 'the beginning of 
the end.' From all parts of the army the glad tidings 
comes, that a great revival is in progress. I wish I had 
time to write to you at length. One instance of the 
power of His spirit : A lieutenant of our regiment,, 
and heretofore very wild, became interested, and for 
nearh^ three weeks seemed ^oaning in agony. The 
other day he came around to see me, and, with a face 
beaming with love, told me he had found Christ, and 
that his only regret now was that he had not been a 
Christian all his life. It is growing dark. I must 
close. More anon. 

Affectionately, 

Your Brother." 

We take up the next letter in the order of time. It 
is numbered 25. The envelope is of brown wrappings 
paper, but neatly made, and has a blue Confederate 
10 cent postage stamp. It is addressed to my sister^ 



74 LIFE IN DIXIE 

who was then teaching at Corinth, Heard countj^ 
Georgia. It is dated : 

*'Near Dalton, May 5th, 1864." After speaking of 
having to take charge early the next morning of the 
brigade picket guard, Thomie goes on to say : 

"The snn's most down, but I think I can fill these 
little pages before dark. Captain F., coming in at 
this time, tells me a dispatch has just been received 
to the effect that the Yankees are advancing in the 
direction of Tunnel Hill, but they have made so many 
feints in that direction lately that we have become 
used to them, so don't be uneasy. 

"The great revival is going on with widening and 
deepening interest. Last Sabbath I saw eighty -three 
immersed at the creek below our brigade. Four were 
sprinkled at the stand before going down to the 
creek, and two down there, making an aggregate 
within this vicinity of eighty -nine, while the same 
proportion, I suppose, are turning to God in other 
parts of the army, making the grand aggregate of 
many hundreds. Yestorday I saw sixty-five more 
baptized, forty more who were to have been there, fail- 
ing to come because of an order to be ready to move 
at any moment. They belong to a more distant 
brigade. * * If we do not move before Monday, 
Sabbath will be a day long to be remembered — 'the 
water will,' indeed, 'be troubled.' Should we remain 
three weeks longer, the glad tidings may go forth 
that the Army of Tennessee is the army of the Lord. 
But He knoweth best what is for our good, and if 



DURING THE WAB. 75 

He sees proper can so order His provide nee as to 
keep us here. His will be done." 

The next letter is addressed to me, but was sent to 
my sister at his request, and is dated " Allatoona Moun 
tains, Near Night, May 22d." He writes : 

"Oh, it grieved my very soul when coming through 
the beautiful Oothcaloga valley, to think of the sad 
fate which awaited it when the fotil invader should 
occupy that 'vale of beauty.' We formed line of battle 
at the creek, at the old Eads' place; our brigade was 
to the left as you go up to Mr. Law's old place on 
the hill, where we stayed once when pa was sick. 
Right there, with a thousand dear recollections of 
by-gone days crov^^ding my mind, in the valley of 
my boyhood, I felt as if I could hurl a host back. 
We fought them and whipped them, until, being 
flanked, we were compelled to fall back. We fought 
them again at Cass Station, driving them in our 
front, but, as before, and for the same reason, we 
were compelled to retreat. 

"As I am requested to hold prayer-meeting this 
evening at sunset, I must close." 

Thomie's next letter in this collection, is addressed 
to his sister Missouri, who had returned home, and 
is headed, simply, "Army of Tennessee, May 31st." 
It is written in a round, legible, but somewhat deh- 
cate hand, and gives no evidence of nervousness or 
hurry. To those fond of war history it will be of 
special interest : 

"Our brigade, in fact, our division, is in a more quiet 
place now than since the commencement of this 



76 LIFE IN DIXIE 

campaign. We were ordered from the battlefield on 
Stmday morning to go and take position in support- 
ing distance of the left wing of the army, where we 
arrived about the middle of the forenoon, and re- 
mained there until yesterday evening, when our divis- 
ion was ordered back in rear of the left centre, where 
we are now. Contrary to all expectations, v^e have 
remained here perfectly quiet, there being no heavy 
demonstration by the enemj^ upon either wing. We 
were very tired and this rest has been a great help to 
us ; for being a reserve and flanking division, we have 
had to trot from one wing of the army to the other, 

and support other troops. 

****** 

''Well, perhaps 3^ou would like to hear something 
from me of the battle of New^ Hope Church, on Friday 
evening, 27th inst. We had been, since the day before, 
supporting some other troops about the centre of the 
right wing, when, I suppose about 2 o'clock, we were 
hurried off to the extreme right to meet a heavy force 
of the enemy trying to turn our right. A few min- 
utes later, the whole army might now have been in 
the vicinity of Atlanta ; but, as it was, we arrived in 
the nick of time, for before we were properly formed 
the enemy were firing into us rapidly. We fronted tu 
them, however, and then commenced one of the hot- 
test engagements, so far, of this campaign. We had 
no support, and just one single line against a whole 
corps of the enemy, and a lieutenant of the 19th 
Arkansas, wounded and captured by them and subse- 
quently retaken by our brigade, stated that another 
corps of the enemy came up about sundown. The 



DURING THE WAB. 77 

fighting of our men, to those who admire warfare, 
w^as magnificent. You could see a pleasant smile 
playing upon the countenances of man3' of the men, 
as they w^ould cry out to the Yankees, 'Come on, we 
are demoralized !' 

"One little incident right here, so characteristic 
of the man. Major Kennard, of whom I have told 
you often (lately promoted) w^as, as usual, en- 
couraging the men by his battle cry of, 'Put your 
trust in God, men, for He is with us,' but con- 
cluded to talk to the Yankees awhile, sang out to 
them, 'Come on, we are demoralized,' when the Ma- 
jor was pretty severely wounded in the head, though 
not seriously, when raising himself up, he said : 

" 'Boys, I told them a lie, and I believe that is the 
reason I got shot.' 

"The fighting was verj^ close and desperate and 
lasted until after dark. About 11 o'clock at night, 
three regiments of our brigade charged the enem3^ 
our regiment among them. We went over ravines, 
rocks, almost precipices, running the enemj^ en- 
tirely off the field. We captured man^^ prisoners, 
and all of their dead, and many of their wounded fell 
into our hands. This charge was a desperate and 
reckless thing, and if the enemy had made anj^ resist- 
ance they could have cut us all to pieces. I hurt my 
leg slightly in falling down a cliff of rocks, and when 
Ave started back to our original line of battle, I 
thought I would go back alone and pick vay way ; so 
I bore off to the left, got lost, and completely bewild- 
ered between two armies. I copy from my journal : 



78 LIFE IN DIXIE 

** 'Here I was, alone in the darkness of midnight, 
with the wounded, the dying, the dead. What an hour 
of horror! I hope never again to experience such. I 
am not superstitious, but the great excitement of seven 
hours of fierce conflict, ending with a bold, and I might 
say reckless, charge — for we knew not what was in 
our front — and then left entirely alone, causes a men- 
tal and physical depression that for one to fully ap- 
preciate he must be surrounded by the same circum- 
stances. My feelings in bnttle were nothing to com- 
pare to this hour. After going first one way and 
then another, and not bettering my case, I heard some 
one slipping along in the bushes. I commanded him 
to halt, and inquired what regiment he belonged 
to, and was answered, ''15th Wisconsin," so I 
took Mr. Wisconsin in, and ordered him to march 
before me — a nice pickle for me then, had a prisoner 
and did not know where to go. Moved on, however, 
and finally heard some more men walking, hailed them, 
for I had become desperate, and was answered, 
"Mississippians." Oh, how glad I was ! The moon 
at this time was just rising, and, casting her pale 
silvery rays through the dense woods, made every 
tree and shrub look like a spectre. I saw a tall, mus- 
cular Federal lying dead and the moonlight shining 
in his face. His eyes were open and seemed to be 
riveted on me. I could not help but shudder. I soon 
found my regiment, and "Richard was himself 
again." ' 

" I went out again to see if I could do anything for 
their wounded. Soon found one with his leg shot 
through, whom I told we would take care of. An- 
other, shot in the head, was crying out continually : 



DURING THE WAR. 7» 

'Oh, my God! oh,mYGod!!' I asked him if we could 
do anything for him, but he replied that it would be 
of no use. I told him God would have mercy upon 
him, but his mind seemed to be wandering. I could 
not have him taken care of that night, and, poor feU 
low, there he lay all night. 

"The next morning I had the privilege of walking 
over the whole ground, and such a scene! Here lay 
the wounded, the dying, and the dead, hundreds upon 
hundreds, in every conceivable position ; some with 
contorted features, showing the agony of death, 
others as if quietly sleeping. I noticed some soft,^ 
beardless faces which ill comported with the savage 
warfare in which they had been engaged. Hundreds 
of letters from mothers, sisters, and friends were 
found upon them, and ambrotypes taken singly and 
in groups. Though they had been my enemies, my 
heart bled at the sickening scene. The wounded 
nearly all expressed themselves tired of the war. 

"For the numbers engaged upon our side, it is said to 
be the greatest slaughter of the enemy of any recent 
battle. Captain Hearne, the old adjutant of our regi- 
ment, was killed. Eight of our regiment were in- 
stantly killed, two mortally wounded, since dead. 

"I did not think of writing so much when I began, 
but it is the first opportunity of tvriting any thing like 
a letter that I have had. Lieutenant McMurray is 
now in charge of the Texas hospital at Auburn, x\la~ 
bama. 

Well, you are now Aunt Missouri. Oh, that I could 
see my boy ! Heaven has protected me thus far and 



«0 LIFE IN DIXIE 

I hope that God will consider me through this dread- 
ful ordeal, and protect me for Christ's sake; not that 
there is any merit that I can offer, but I do hope to 
live that I ma}' be an humble instrument in the hands 
of my God to lead others to Him. I hold prayer in 
our company nearly every night when circumstances 
will permit, and the men don't go to sleep before we 
are quiet. Poor fellows, they are ever willing to join 
nie, but often are so wearied I dislike to interrupt them . 

''My sister, let our trust be confidently in God. He 
can save or He can destroy . Let us pra^^ Him for peace. 
He can give it us; not pray as if we were making 
an experiment, but pray believing God will answer 
our prayers, for we have much to pray for." 

My sister subsequently copied into her journal the 
following extract taken from his, and written soon 
after the Battle of New Hope Church : 

''May 31st, 1864.— Here we rest by a httle murmur- 
ing brook, singing along as if the whole world was at 
peace. I lay down last night and gazed away up in 
the peaceful heavens. All was quiet and serene up 
there, and the stars seemed to vie with each other in 
brightness and were fulfilling their alio ted destiny. 
My comrades all asleep ; nothing breaks the silence. 
I leave earth for a time, and soarupon 'imagination's 
wings' far away from this war-accursed land to 
where bright angels sing their everlasting songs of 
peace and strike their harps along the golden streets 
of the New Jerusalem, and the swelling music bursts 
with sweet accord throughout vast Heaven's eternal 
space!" 



DUBING THE WAR. 81 

Again on Sabbath, June 5th, he writes: ''No music 
of church bells is heard to-day summoning God's peo- 
ple to worship where the gospel is wont to be heard. 
We are near a large log church called Gilgal. What 
a different scene is presented to-day from a Sabbath 
fouryears ago when the aged minister of God read to 
a large and attentive congregation: ''The Lord is my 
shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie 
down in green pastures, He leadeth me beside the still 
waters." O, God, wilt thou not interpose Thy strong 
arm to stop the bloody strife? Wilt Thou not hear 
the prayers of Thy people who daily say, Lord, give 
us peace? The Lord will answer, and soon white- 
robed peace will smile upon our unhappy country. O 
God, hasten the day, for we are sorely vexed, and 
thine shall be all the glory." 

Ere peace was to dawn upon his beloved country, his 
own soul was to find it through the portals of death ; 
but ere that time, save a brief interval of enforced 
rest, weary marchings and heart-breaking scenes and 
sorrows were to intervene. 

Thomie's next letter is dated "In the Field, near 
Lost Mountain, June 14th," and the next "In the 
Ditches, June 22d, 1864." The next, "Near Chatta- 
hoochee River, Juty 6th, 1864," tells of the retreat of 
the army from Kennesaw Mountain to Smyrna 
Church, and of his having come off safely from an- 
other "small fight" the da3^ before, in which several 
of his comrades were killed. 

Owing to nervous prostration, and other illness, 
Thomie was soon after sent to the hospital at Ma- 
con, transferred from there to Augusta, and from the 



82 LIFE IN DIXIE 

latter point given leave of absence to visit his sister, 
v^^ho had found refuge with her cousin, Mrs. T. J. 
Hillsman, a daughter of Rev. Wm. H. Stokes, of 
blessed memory. Here, with his father's kindred, 
cheered by beautiful hospitality and cousinly affec- 
tion, our darling brother enjoyed the last sw^eet rest 
and quiet earth w^as e'er to give him before he slept 
beneath its sod. 



1 



DURING THE WAR. 83 



CHAPTER X. 

A visit to Dalton — The fidelity of an old-time slave. 

''From Atlanta to Dalton, $7.75. From the 23d 
to the 26th of April, 1864, to Mrs. John Reynolds, 
for board, $20.00. From Dalton to Decatur, $8.00." 

The above statement of the expense attending a 
round trip to Dalton, Georgia, is an excerpt from a 
book which contains a record of every item of my 
expenditures for the year 1864. 

This trip was taken for the purpose of carrying 
provisions and articles of clothing to my brother and 
his comrades in General Joseph E. Johnston's com- 
mand. In vain had our mother tried to send appetiz- 
ing baskets of food to her son, whose soldier rations 
consisted of salty bacon and hard tack ; some disaster, 
real or imaginary, always occurred to prevent them 
from reaching their destination, and it was, there- 
fore, determined at home that I should carry the next 
consignment. 

After several da3's' preparation, jugs were filled with 
good sorghum syrup, and baskets with bread, pies, 
cakes and other edibles at our command, and sacks of 
potatoes, onions and peppers were included. My 
fond and loving mother and I, and our faithful aid- 
de-camps of African descent, conveyed them to the 
depot. In those days the depot was a favorite re- 
sort with the ladies and children of Decatur. There 
they always heard something from the front— wher- 



84 LIFE IN DIXIE 

ever that might be. The obliging agent had a way, 
all his own, of acquiring information from the 
army in all its varied commands, and dealt it out ga- 
lore to the encouragement or discouragement of his 
auditors, as his prejudices or partialities prompted. 
On this occasion many had gone there, who, like my- 
self, were going to take the train for Atlanta, and in 
the interim were eager to hear everything of a hope- 
ful character, even though reason urged that it was 
hoping against hope. 

I was the cynosure of all eyes, as I was going to 
*'the front;" and every mother who had a darling 
son in that branch of the army hoped that he would 
be the first to greet me on my arrival there, and give 
me a message for her. And I am sure, if the love con- 
signed to me for transmission could have assumed 
tangible form and weight, it would have been more 
than fourteen tons to the square inch. 

Helpful, willing hands deposited with care my 
well-labeled jugs, baskets, etc., and I deposited my- 
self with equal care in an already well-filled coach 
on the Georgia Railroad. Arrived in Atlanta I sur- 
reptitiously stowed the jugs in the car with me, and 
then asked the baggage-master to transfer the pro- 
visions to a Dal ton freight train. Without seeming to 
do so, I watched his every movement until I saw the 
last article safely placed in the car, and then I went 
aboard myself. Surrounded by jugs and packages, I 
again became an object of interest and soon found 
myself on familiar terms with all on board ; for 
w^ere we not friends and kindred bound to each other 
by the closest ties? Every age and condition of 



DURING THE WAR. 85 

Southern life was represented in tliat long train of 
jiving, anxious freight. Young mothers, with wee 
bit tots chaperoned bj their mothers, and sometimes 
by their grandmothers, were going to see their hus- 
bands, for, perhaps, the last time on earth ; and moth- 
ers, feeling that another fond embrace of their sons 
would palliate the sting of final separation. The 
poor man and the rich man, fathers alike of men fight- 
ing the same battles in defense of the grandest princi- 
ples that ever inspired mortal man to combat, on their 
way to see those men and leave their benedictions with 
them ; and sisters, solitary and alone, going to see their 
beloved brothers and assure them once more of the 
purest and most disinterested love that ever found 
lodgment in the human heart. Many and pleasant were 
the brief conversations between those dissimilar in 
manners, habits, and conditions in life; the great 
bond connecting them rendered every other considera- 
tion subordinate, and the rich and poor, the edu- 
cated and ignorant met and mingled in harmonious 
intercourse. 

Those were days of slow travel in the South. The 
roads were literally blockaded with chartered cars, 
which contained the household goods of refugees w^ho 
had fled from thev;rathand vandalism of the enemj^, 
and not unfrequently refugees themselves mhabited 
cars that seemed in fearful proximity to danger. Am- 
ple opportunity of observation on either side was 
furnished by this slow travel, and never did the fine, 
arable lands bordering the Western & Atlantic road 
from the Chattahoochee river to Dalton give greater 
promise of cereals, and trees in large variety were lit- 



86 LIFE IN DIXIE 

erally abloom with embryo fruit. Alas! that such 
a land should be destined to fall into the hands of 
despoilers. 

At Dalton I went immediately to the agent at the 
depot, whom I found to be my old friend, John Rey- 
nolds, for the purpose of getting information regard- 
ing boarding houses. He told me his wife was in that 
line and would accommodate me, and to render the 
application more easy, he gave me a note of intro- 
duction to her. 

A beautiful, A?^ell-furnished room was given me, and 
a luscious supper possessed exhilarating properties. 

In the meantime, Mr. Reynolds had, at my request, 
notified my brother, whom he knew, of my presence 
in his house, and I awaited his coming anxiously ; but 
I was disappointed. A soldier's time is not his own, 
even in seasons of tranquility, and he was on duty 
and could not come then, but he assured me on a 
small scrap of paper, torn from his note-book, that 
he would come as soon as he could get off ''to-mor- 
row morning.'' 

The waiting seemed very long, and yet it had its 
ending. The night was succeeded by a typical April 
day, replete with sunshine and shower, and the hopes 
and fears of a people struggling for right over wrong. 

At length the cheery voice of him, who always had 
a pleasant word fot every one, greeted me and I hast- 
ened to meet him. That we might be quiet and un- 
disturbed, I conducted hitn to my room, an i a long 
and pleasant conversation ensued. I wish I had time 
and space to recapitulate the conversation, for its 
every word and intonation are preserved in the 



DURING THE WAB. 87 

archivCvS of memory, and will enter the grand eternities 
with me as free from discord as when first uttered. 
Our mother's failing health gave him concern, but his 
firm reliance on Him who doeth all things well, 
quieted his sad forebodings and led the way to pleas- 
anter themes. 

He loved to dwell upon the quaint and innocent 
peculiarities of his younger sister, and as for his older 
one, it was very evident that he regarded her fully 
strong enough to ^'tote her own skillet," and ''paddle 
her own canoe." A rap upon the door indicated that 
some one wished to see either one or the other of us. 
I responded, and was met by a negro boy bearing a 
huge waiter, evidently well-filled, and covered over 
with a snow-white cloth. The aroma from that 
waiter would have made a mummy smile. I had it 
put upon a table, and then I removed the cover, and 
saw with gratification the squab pie which I had or- 
dered for dear Thomie, and a greater gratification 
awaited me, i. e., seeing him eat it with a relish. Nor 
was the pie the only luxury in that waiter. Fresh but- 
ter and buttermilk, and a pone of good corn bread, 
etc., etc., supplemented by baked apples and cream 
and sugar. 

"Come, dear Thomie, and let us eat together once 
more," was my invitation to that dinner, and radi- 
ant with thanks he took the seat I offered him. I 
did not have the Christian courage to ask him to ask 
a blessing upon this excellent food, but I saw that one 
was asked in silence, nevertheless, and I am sure that 
an invocation went up from my own heart none the 
less sincere . 



88 LIFE IN DIXIE 

''Sister, I appreciate this compliment," he said. 

''I could do nothing that would compliment you, 
Thomie," I answered, and added, ''I hope you will 
enjoy your dinner as a love offering from me." 

We lingered long around that little table, and 
many topics were touched upon during that period. 

After dinner I asked Thomie to lie down and rest 
awhile. He thanked me, and said that the bed would 
tempt an anchorite to peaceful slumber, and he could 
not resist its wooings. A few minutes after he lay 
down he was sound asleep. He slept as a child — calm 
and peaceful. That a fly might not disturb him, I 
improvised a brush — my handkerchief and a tender 
twig from a tree near by being the component parts. 
As I sat by him and studied his manly young face, 
and read its expression of goodwill to all mankind, 
I wept to think that God had possibly required him as 
our sacrifice upon the altar of our country. 

The slanting rays of the Western sun fell full and 
radiant upon his placid face, and awakened him from 
this long and quiet slumber. With a smile he arose 
and said : 

"This won't do for me." 

Hasty good-byes and a fervent ''God bless you" 
were uttered, and another one of the few partings 
that remained to be taken took place between the 
soldier and his sister. 

****** 

The day was bright and exhilarating, in the month 
of June, 1864. Gay, laughing Flora had tripped over 
woodland and lawn and scattered with prodigal 
hands flowers of ever^^ hue and fragrance, and the 



DURING THE WAR. 89 

balmy atmosphere of early summer was redolent with 
their sweet perfume; and all nature, animate and in- 
animate, seemed imbued with the spirit of adoration 
towards the Giver of these perfect works. Although 
many hearts had been saddened by the mighty conflict 
being ^^aged for the supremacy of Constitutional 
rights, there were yet in Decatur a large number, to 
whom personal sorrow for personal bereavement had 
notcome, and they were in sympathy with this beauti- 
ful scene, whose brilHant tints were but the reflection 
of divine glory, and whose faintest odor was distilled 
in the alchemy of heaven. 

I was contemplating this scene in grateful admira- 
tion, and blended with my thoughts came the memorj- 
of my brother, who was in the foremost ranks of 
the contest. He, too, loved the beautiful and the 
good, and "looked from nature up to nature's God." 
All unconsciously I found myself plucking his favor- 
ite flowers, and arranging a choice bouquet, a spirit 
ofl'ering to him who might even then be hovering 
over me and preparing my mind for the sad denoue- 
ment. vVith these reflections, I ascended the steps of 
my cottage home, and turned to take another look 
upon the enchanting scene, when I saw, approaching, 
one of my mother's faithful servants, who was hired 
to Dr. Taylor, a well-known druggist of Atlanta. 
Ever apprehensive of evil tidings from "the front," 
and "the front" the portion of the array that em- 
braced my brother, I was almost paralyzed. I stood 
as if riveted to the floor, and awaited developments. 
King, for that was the name of the ebony-hued and 
faithful servant whose unexpected appearance had 



90 LIFE IN DIXIE 

caused such a heart-flutter, came nearer and nearer. 
On his approach I asked in husky voice, ''Have you 
heard anything from your Marse Thomie, King?" 

"No, ma'am; have you?" 

The hght of heaven seemed to dispel the dark clouds 
which had gathered over and around ni3^ horizon, and 
I remembered my duty to one, who, though in a menial 
position, had doubtless come on some kind errand. 

"Come in. King, and sit down and rest 3^ourself," 
I said, pointing to an easy chair on the portico. 

"I am not tired. Miss Mary, and would rather 
stand," he replied. 

And he did stand, with his hat in his hand ; and I 
thought for the first time in my life, probably, that 
he evinced a true manhood, worthy of Caucasian 
lineage; not that there was a drop of Caucasian blood 
in his veins, for he v^as a perfect specimen of the Afri- 
can race and as black as Erebus. 

The suspense was becoming painful, when it was 
broken by King asking : 

"Miss Mary, is Miss Polly at home?" 

"Yes, King, and I will tell her you are here." 

"Miss Polly," my mother and King's mistress, soon 
appeared and gave him a genuine welcome. 

King now lost no time in making known the object 
ot his visit, and thus announced it: 

"Miss Polly, don't you want to sell me?" 

"No ; why do you ask?" 

"Because, Miss Polly, Mr. Johnson wants to buy 
me, and he got me to come to see you and ask you if 
you would sell me." 



DURING THE WAR. 91 

''Do YOU want me to sell you, King? Would you 
rather belong to Mr. Johnson than to me?" 

"Now, Miss Polly, you come to the point, and I 
am going to try to answer it. I love you, and you 
have always been a good mistuss to us all, and I 
don't think there is one of us that would rather be- 
long to some one else, but I tell you how it is, Miss 
Polly, and you musn't get mad with me for saying it; 
when this war is over none of us are going to belong 
to you. We'll all be free, and I would a great deal 
rather Mr. Johnson would lose me than you. He is 
always bragging about what he will do ; hear him 
talk, you would think he was a bigger man than Mr. 
Lincoln is, and had more to back him; but I think 
he's a mighty httle man myself, and I want him to 
lose me. He says he'll give you his little old store 
on Peach tree street for me. It don't seem much, I 
know, but much or little, it's going to be more than 
me after the war." 

And thus this unlettered man, who in the ordinary 
acceptation of the term, had never known what it 
was to be free, argued with his mistress the imjDor- 
tance of the exchange of property of which he himself 
was a part, for her benefit and that of her children. 

''Remember, Miss Polly," he said, "that when 
Marse Thomie comes out of the war, it will be mighty 
nice for him to have a store of his own to commence 
business in, and if I was in your place I would take 
it for me, for I tell you again, Miss Polly, when the 
war's over we'll all be free." 

But the good mistress, who had hstened in silence to 
these arguments, was unmoved. She saw before her 



^2 LIFE IN DIXIE 

a man who had been born a slave in her family, and 
who had grown to man's estate under the fostering 
care of slavery, whose high sense of honor and grati- 
tude constrained him to give advice intelligently, 
which if followed, would rescue her and her children 
from impending adversity, but she determined not to 
take it. She preferred rather to trust their future 
^well-being into the hands of Providence. Her beauti- 
ful faith found expression in this consoling passage of 
Scripture: ''The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not 
want." And this blessed assurance must have deter- 
mined her to pursue the course she did, else it would 
have been reckless and improvident. She told King 
that when our people became convinced that the trou- 
bles between the South and North had to be settled by 
the sword, that she, in common w^ith all good citizens, 
staked her all upon the issues of the war, and that 
she would not now, like a coward, flee from them, or 
seek to avert them by selling a man, or men and wo- 
men, who had endeared themselves to her by service 
and fidelity. 



DURING THE WAR. 93: 



CHAPTER XI. 

A PERILOUS TRUST. 

"It is most time to go to the post-office, ain't it^ 
Miss Mary? We are going to get a letter from Marse 
Thomie this morning." 
''What makes yon so certain of it, Toby?" 
"I don't know'm, but I am ; and every time I feels 
this way, I gets one; so I'll just take my two little 
black calves and trot off to the office and get it;" and 
suiting the action to the word, he struck a pretty brisk 
gait, and was soon around the corner and out of 
sight. 

Then Decatur received but two mails per day — one 
from an easterly direction and the other from a wes- 
terly direction. The northern, northwestern, south- 
ern and southwestern, all coming in on the morning's 
Georgia Railroad train. Therefore ever since Thomie's 
return to his command, the western mail was the one 
around which our hopes and fears daily clustered. 

General Joseph E. Johnston's army was, at the time 
of this incident, at Dalton, obstructing the advance of 
Sherman's "three hundred thousand men" on destruc- 
tion bent. And though there had been no regular line 
of battle formed for some time by the Confederate 
and Federal forces, there were frequent skirmishes, dis- 
astrous alike to both sides. Hence the daily alterna-^ 
tion of hopes and fears in the hearts of those whose 



94 LIFE IN DIXIE 

principal occupation was waiting and watching for 
''news from the front." 

The team of which Tob3^ was the proud possessor, 
did its work quickly, and in less time than it takes 
to tell it he appeared in sight, returning from the post- 
office — one hand clasping a package of papers and let- 
ters, and the other, raised high above his head, holding 
a letter. I could not wait, and ran to meet him. 

"I've got a whole lot of letters, and every one of 
them is from Dalton, and this one is from Marse 
Thomie!" 

Toby had read the Dalton post-mark, and had 
made a correct statement. The v^ ell-known chirog- 
raphy of my brother had become so familiar to him 
that he never mistook it for another, and was uner- 
ring in his declarations regarding it. On this occa- 
sion Tommy's letter read thus : 

''My Dear Sister: — Those acquainted with army 
tactics know that General Johnston is on the eve of 
an important move, or change of base ; and that it 
should be the effort of the men, officers and privates, 
to beprepared to make the change, whatever it may be, 
with as little loss of army paraphernalia as possible. 
As the Confederate army has no repository secure 
from the approach of the enemy, several of our 
friends suggest that you might be willing to take care 
of anything which we might send to you, that would 
be of future use to us — heavy overcoats, extra blank- 
ets, etc., etc. Consider well the proposition before 
you consent. Should they be found in your posses- 
sion, b^^ the enemy, then our home might be demol- 
ished, and you perhaps imprisoned, or killed upon the 



J 



DURING THE WAR. 95 

spot. Are you willing to take the risk, trusting to 
your ingenuity and bravery to meet the consequences? 
Let me know as soon as possible, as wartimes admit 
of little delay. General Granbury, Colonel Bob 
Young and others may make known to you their 
wishes by personal correspondence. Love to my 
mother and sister, and to yourself, brave heart. 
Affectionately, your brother, 

T. J. Stokes." 

This letter was read aloud to my mother, and the 
faithful mail carrier was not excluded. She listened 
and weighed ever3^ word of its contents. For several 
moments a silence reigned, which was broken by her 
asking me what I was going to do in the matter. 

''What would you have me do?" I asked in reply. 

"What would they do, Mar^^, in very cold weather, 
if they should lose their winter clothing, overcoats 
and blankets, now that supplies are so difficult to 
obtain?" 

This question, evasive as it was, convinced me that 
my mother's patriotism was fully adequate to the 
occasion, and, fraught with peril as it might be, she 
was willing to bear her part of the consequences of 
taking care of the soldiers' clothes. 

The return mail bore the following letter addressed 
jointly to General Granbury, Colonel Robert Young 
Captains Lauderdale and Formwalt, Lieutenant 
Stokes, and Major John Y. Rankin : 

''My Dear Brother and Friend : — I thank you for 
the estimate you have placed upon my character and 
patriotism, as indicated by your request that I should 
take care of your overcoats, blankets, etc., until you 



96 LIFE IN DIXIE 

need them. If I were willing to enjoy the fruits of 
your valor and sacrifices without also being willing 
to share your perils, I would be unworthy indeed. 
Yes, if I knew that for taking care of those things; I 
would subject myself to real danger, I would essay 
the duty. Send them on. I will meet them in Atlanta, 
and see that they continue their journej^ to Decatur 
without delay. Your friend, 

M. A. H. G." 

Another mail brought intelligence of the shipment 
of the goods, and I lost no time in going to Atlanta 
and having them re-shipped to Decatur. There were 
nine large dry goods boxes, and I went immediately^ 
on their arrival, to Mr. E. Mason's and engaged his 
two-horse wagon and driver to carry them from the 
depot to our home. When they were brought, we 
had them placed in our company dining room. This 
room, by a sort of tacit understanding, had become a 
store room for the army before this important lot of 
goods came, and, as a dining room, much incongruity 
of furniture existed, among which was a large, high 
wardrobe. The blinds were now closed and secured, 
the sash put down and fastened, the doors shut and 
locked, and this room given up to the occupancy of 
Confederate articles; and thus it remained during the 
eventful period intervening between the departure of 
General Joseph E. Johnston's army fromDalton, and 
Sherman's infamous order to the people of Atlanta 
and vicinity to leave their homes, that they might be 
destroyed by his vandal hordes. 



DURING THE WAR. 97 



CHAPTER XII. 

A SCENE IN AN ATLANTA CONFEDERATE HOSPITAL. 

''Well, my boy, our patients are all getting along 
nicely in the Fair Ground hospital," was the comfort- 
ing assurance I gave to Toby, who was my faithful 
co-worker in all that pertained to the comfort of our 
soldiers. ''Suppose we go to the Empire hospital and 
see what we can do there." 

"Yes'm, I have always wanted to go there." 

Taking one of the baskets w^e had brought with us 
from Decatur, and - which contained biscuits, rusk, 
broiled and fried chicken, ground coffee, and black- 
berry^ wine, I handed it to him and we wended our 
way to the hospital. Things were not in as good 
shape there as at the Fair Ground hospital. I pei- 
ceived this at a glance, and upon asking and receiv- 
ing permission from the superintendent, I soon tidied 
up things considerably. Toby brought pails of fresh 
water, and aided in bathing the faces, hands and arms 
of the convalescing soldiers, while I hunted up the 
soldier lads who ought to have been at home with 
their mothers, and bestowed the tender loving service 
that woman only can give to the sick and suffering. 

Entering one of the wards I perceived a youth, or 
one I took to be a youth, from his slender, fragile fig- 
ure, and his beardless face, lean and swarthy in sick- 



98 LIFE IN DIXIE 

ness, but beautiful in its fine texture, and the marble- 
like whiteness of the brow. That he A^vas of French 
extraction there could be no doubt. Quietly kneeling 
by the side of his cot, I contemplated his face, his 
head, his figure — I listened to his breathing, and 
watched the pulsations of his heart, and knew that 
his days, yea, his hours, were numbered. Taking his 
hand in mine, I perceived that the little vitality that 
remained was fast burning up with fever. Putting 
back the beautiful rings of raven hair that lay in 
disheveled clusters over his classic head, and partly 
concealed his white brow, I thought of his mother^ 
and imprinted upon his forehead a kiss for her sake. 
The deep slumber induced by anodynes was broken 
by that touch, and a dazed awakening ensued. 
"Mother," was his pathetic and only utterance. 
*' What can I do for you, my dear child?" 
There are looks and tones which are never forgot- 
ten, and never shall I forget the utter despair in the 
eyes, lustrous and beautiful enough to look upon the 
glory of heaven, and the anguish of the voice, musi- 
cal enough to sing the songs of everlasting bliss, as 
he said in tremulous tone, and broken sentences : 

'^I want to see a Catholic priest. I have paid sev- 
eral men to go for me. They have gone off and never 
returned. I have no money with which to pay any 
one else." 
In silence I listened and wept. At length I said : 
* ' My dear young friend , can you not make confession 
to "our Father which art in Heaven," and ask Him 
for Christ's sake to absolve you from all sins of 
which you ma3^ think yourself guilty? He will do 



DURING THE WAR. 99 

it without the intetYention of a priest, if you will 
only believe on Him and trust Him. Can you not 
do this?" 

The pencil of Raphael would fail to depict the an- 
guish of his face; all hope left it, and, as he turned 
his despairing look upon the wall, tear drops glisten- 
ed in his eyes and filled the sunken hollows beneath 
them. Again I took his passive hand in mine, and 
with the other hand upon his white forehead, I told 
him he should see a priest — that I myself would go 
for one, and just as soon as he could be found I would 
return with him. Before leaving, however, I went 
to the ward where I had left Toby and the basket^ 
and filling a little glass with wine, I brought it to the 
sinking youth. He could not be induced to taste it. 
In vain I plead with him, and told him that it 
would strengthen him for the interview with the 
priest. ''lam going now, and will come back, too^ 
as soon as I can," I said to the dying youth, for to 
all intents and purposes he was dying then. Seeing 
the other patients watching my every movement 
with pathetic interest, I was reminded to give the re- 
jected wine to the weakest looking one of them. 

Leaving Toby to either wait on, or to amuse the 
soldiers of the ward first entered (where I found him 
playing the latter role, much to their delight), with 
hasty steps I went to the Catholic parsonage on 
Hunter street. In response to my ring the door was 
opened by an Irish woman from whom I learned 
that the priest was not in, and would not be until he 
came to luncheon at 12 o'clock m. It was then 11 
o'clock, and I asked the privilege of waiting in the sit- 



100 LIFE IN DIXIE 

ting toom until he came. Tliis being granted, I en- 
tered the room consecrated to ceHbacy, and perhaps 
to holy thoughts, judging from the pictures upon the 
walls, and the other ornaments. These things furn- 
ished food for reflection, and the waiting would not 
have seemed so long but for the thought of the poor 
suffering one who had given his young life for our 
cause. Intuitively I knew the sound of clerical foot- 
steps as they entered the hall, and hastening to meet 
him I asked, "Is this Father O 'Riley?" Receiving an 
affirmative answer, I told him of the youth at the 
Empire hospital who refused to be comforted other 
than by a Catholic priest, and of my promise to 
bring one to him. Father O 'Riley said he had been 
out since early morning, visiting the sick, and would 
be obliged to refresh himself, both by food and re- 
pose, but that I could say to the young man that he 
would be there by 3 o'clock. "O, sir, you don't real- 
ize the importance of haste. Please let me remain in 
your sitting room until you have eaten your lunch- 
eon, and then I know you will go with me. I too 
have been out ever since early morning engaged in 
the same Christ-like labors as yourself, and I do not 
require either food or repose." 

My earaestness prevailed, and in a short while we 
were at our destination. At m3' request. Father 
'Riley w^aited in the passage way leading to the 
ward until I went in to prepare the young man for 
his coming. I found him in that restless condition, 
neither awake nor asleep, which often precedes the 
deep sleep that knows no waking. Wetting my hand- 
kerchief with cold water, I bathed his face and 



DURING THE WAR. lOl 

hands, and spoke gently to him, and, when he seemed 
aufficiently aroused to understand me, I told him in 
cheerful tones that he could not guess who had come 
to see him. Catching his look of inquiry, I told him 
it was Father O'Riley, and that I would bring him in. 
Opening the door, I motioned to Father O'Riley to 
follow me. The dying youth and the Catholic priest 
tiecded no introduction by me. There was a mystic 
tie between them that I recognized as sacred, and I 
left them alone. Telling Father O'Riley that I con- 
signed my charge to him, and that I would come 
back to-morro^w, I bade them good-bye and left. 

The contents of the basket had been gratefully re- 
ceived and devoured by those who deserved the best 
in the land, because they were the land's defenders. 

To-morrow Toby and I, and the basket, were at 
the Empire hospital in due time, but the poor suf- 
fering youth was not there. The emancipated spirit 
had taken its flight to Heaven, and all that was mor- 
tal of that brave young soldier had been consigned 
by the ceremonies of the church he loved so well to 
the protecting care of mother earth. 



102 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER XIII. 



Concealing Confederate clothing — Valuables carried to Atlanta — 
Toby taken ill . 

On the way to the post-office early one morning in 
the sultry month of Jtily, 1864, to mail a number of 
letters which I deemed too important to be entrusted 
to other hands, I was accosted as follows by ''Uncle 
Mack," the good negro blacksmith, whose shop was 
situated immediately upon the route : 

"Did you know, Miss Mary, that the Yankees have 
crossed the river, and are now this side of the Chat- 
tahoochee?" 

"Why, no I" I said, and added with as much calm- 
ness as I could affect, "I do not know why I should 
be surprised — there is nothing to prevent them from 
coming into Decatur." 

With an imprecation more expressive than elegant, 
that evil should overtake them before getting here, 
he resumed hammering at the anvil, and I my walk 
to the post-office. Nor was Uncle Mack the only one 
who volunteered the information that "The Yankees 
are coming — they are this side the river." 

The time had come to devise means and methods 
of concealing the winter clothing and other accoutre- 
ments entrusted to my care by our dear soldiers. In 
order to save them, what should I do with them?— 
was a question which I found myself unable to an- 
swer. An attempt to retain and defend them would 
be futile indeed. And I have no right to jeopardize 
my mother's home by a rash effort to accomplish an 



DURING THE WAR. 103 

impossibility. But what shall I do with these pre- 
cious things, is the question. A happy thought struck 
me, and I pursued it only to find it delusive. The 
near approach of Sherman's army developed the as- 
tounding fact that Dr. A. Holmes, of Decatur, a Bap- 
tist minister of some prominence, claimed to be a Un- 
ion man, in full sympathy with any means that 
would soonest quell the rebellion. This I had not 
heard and in my dilemma I went to him to impart 
my plans and ask advice. He was morose and reti- 
cent and I hesitated ; but, driven by desperation, I 
finally said : "Dr. Holmes, as a minister of the gospel, 
are you not safe? All civilized nations respect clerical 
robes, do they not?" 

''I think so," he said, and continued by saying, ''I 
have other claims upon the Federal army which will 
secure me from molestation." 

A look of surprise and inquiry being my only an- 
swer, he said, ''Amid the secession craze, I have never 
given up my allegiance to the United States." 

''Why, Dr. Holmes!" I said, in unfeigned surprise. 

"I repeat most emphatically that I have remained 
tmshaken in my allegiance to the United States. I 
have no respect for a little contemptible Southern 
Confederacy, whose flag will never be recognized on 
land or on sea." 

"O, Dr. Holmes !" I gasped rather than said. 

This was a sad revelation to me. On more than 
one occasion I had heard Dr. Holmes pray fervently 
for the success of the Southern cause, and to hear 
such changed utterances from him now, pained me 
exceedingly. Heartsore and discouraged, I turned 



104 LIFE IN DIXIE 

from him, and was leaving without the usual cere- 
mony, when he said : 

"What can I do for you?" 

''I came, sir, to ask a great favor of you, but after 
hearing you express yourself as you have, I deem it 
useless to make known my wishes. Good morning." 

This interview with Dr. Holmes was very brief ; it 
did not consume as much time as it has done to 
tell it. 

I did not walk in those days, but ran, and it re- 
quired only a few moments to transfer the scene of 
action from Dr. Holmes' to my mother's residence. 
A hurried, whispered conversation acquainted her 
with the situation ; and at m3^ request, and upon a 
plausible pretense, she took Toby to the depot where 
she remained until I sent for her. My confidence in 
Toby^ had not in the least diminished, but, being a 
boy, I feared that he might have his price, or be in- 
timidated by threats into the betrayal of our secret ; 
hence the management as above related to get him 
off the place while I consummated a plan, which, if 
successful, would be a great achievement, but, if a 
failure, would be fraught with disaster. In those days 
"the depot" was a place of popular resort — it was 
the emporium of news ; and either from the agent, 
or from the Confederate scouts that were ever and 
anon dashing through Decatur, with cheerful mes- 
sages and words of hope, the anxious mothers and 
sisters of the soldiers often wended their way there 
in hope of hearing something from their loved ones. 
Therefore no suspicion was aroused by this going to 
the depot. 



DURING THE WAR. 105 

Watching the receding form of my mother until she 
had passed out of the gate, and Toby had closed it 
after her, I then went to the rear door and motioned 
to Telitha, who chanced to be in the right place, to 
come into the house. After seeing that every outside 
door was thoroughly secure, I took her into the din- 
ing room where the boxes were which contained the 
winter clothing, blankets, etc., already mentioned as 
having been sent for storage by our soldier friends at 
Dalton, and told her in pantomime that the Yankees 
were coming, and that if they saw these things they 
would kill us and burn the house. She fully under- 
stood and repeated the pantomime illustrative of 
possible— yea, probable— coming events, with pathetic 
effect. I showed her that I wanted a hammer and 
chisel with which to take off the hds of the boxes, 
and she brought them. The lids removed, each arti- 
cle was carefully lifted from its repository and placed 
on chairs. This important step being taken towards 
the concealment of the goods, I raised the sash and 
opened the shutters of the window nearest the cellar, 
which was unlocked and open, and, Telitha, climbing 
out of the window, received the boxes as I handed 
them to her, and carried them into the cellar. Old 
and soiled as the boxes were, they were not in a con- 
dition to create suspicion of recent use, so from that 
source v^e had nothing to fear. Telitha again in the 
house, shutters closed, and sash down, preparation 
was resumed for the enactment of a feat, dangerous 
and rash, the thought of which, even at this remote 
period, almost produces a tremor. The wardrobe 
mentioned in a former sketch as an incongruity in a 



106 LIFE IN DIXIE 

dining room, was emptied of its contents, and inch by 
inch, placed in a position as near the center of the 
room as possible ; then a large table was placed be- 
side it, and a chair upon that; and then with the help 
of another chair, which served as a step, I got upon 
the table and then upon the chair that was on the 
table. As I went up, Telitha followed ; standing on 
the table she grasped the wardrobe with her strong 
liands and held it securely. I ascended from the chair 
to the top of it, stood up and steadied myself, and 
waited, immovable as a statue, until she got down 
and brought the chisel and hammer and placed them 
at my feet, and resumed her hold upon the ward- 
robe. I stooped and picke d up the utensils with which 
1 had to work, and straightened and steadied myself 
again. The chisel touched the plastered ceiling and 
the hammering began. Very slow work it was at 
first, as the licks had to be struck upward instead of 
downward, and the plastering was very thick. 
Pinally the chisel w^ent through and was withdrawn 
and removed to another place, and by repeated ef- 
forts I secured an aperture large enough to insert my 
finger, and a few well-directed licks round and 
about so cracked and w^eakened the plastering that I 
was enabled to pull off some large pieces. A new diffi- 
culty presented itself. The laths were long, much 
longer than those of the present day, and I not only 
had to make a larger opening in the ceiling, but to 
take off the plastenng without breaking the laths. 
More than once the wardrobe had to be moved, that 
I might pull off the plastering, and then with the 
greatest care prize off the laths. At length the feat 



BUBING THE WAR. 107 

was accomplished, and I laid the lids of the boxes, 
which had been reserved for this purpose, across the 
joists and made a floor upon which to lay the goods, 
more than once specified in these sketches. When the 
last article had been laid on this improvised shelf, I 
gazed upon them in silent anguish and wept. Telitha 
caught the melancholy inspiration and also wept. 
Each lath was restored to its place and the perilous 
work w^as completed, and how I thanked the Lord 
for the steady nerve and level head that enabled 
me to do this service for those who were fighting the 
battles of my country. 

But the debris must be removed. While the doors 
were yet closed and fastened, we pounded and broke the 
plastering into very small pieces and filled everj^ vessel 
and basket in the house. I then went out and walked 
very leisurely over the yard and lot, and lingered 
over every lowly flower that sweetened the atmos- 
phere by its fragrance, and when I was fully per- 
suaded that no spy was lurking nigh I re-entered the 
house and locked the door. Picking up the largest 
vessel, and motioning Tehtha to follow suit, I led the 
way through a back door to a huge old ash hopper, 
and emptied the pulverized plastering into it. In this 
way we soon had every trace of it removed from the 
floor. The dust that had settled upon everything 
was not so easily removed, but the frequent use of 
dusting brushes and flannel cloths, disposed of the 
most of it. 

I now wrote a note to my mother, inviting her to 
come home, and to bring Toby with her. We kept 
the doors of the dining room closed, as had been our 



108 LIFE IN DIXIE 

wont for some time, and if Toby ever discovered the 
change, he never betrayed his knov^ledge of it by 
word or look. After a light breakfast, and the ex- 
citement of the day, I felt that we ought to have ci 
good, luscious dinner, and, with the help at my com- 
mand, went to work preparing it, and, as was my 
custom of late, I did not forget to provide for others 
who might come in. More than once during the day, 
Confederate scouts had galloped in and spoken a few 
words of encouragement; and, after taking a drink 
of -water from the old oaken bucket, had galloped 
out again, and I hoped they would come back when 
the biscuit and tea-cakes were done, that I might fill 
their pockets. 

After the last meal of the day had been eaten, I 
held another whispered consultation with my 
mother, and in pursuance of the course agreed upon, 
I emptied several trunks, and with her help filled one 
with quilts and blankets, and other bedding; another 
with china and cut glass, well packed ; and another 
with important papers, treasured relics, etc., and 
locked and strapped them ready for shipment next 
morning. 

A night of unbroken rest and sleep prepared me for 
another day of surprises and toil, and before dawn I 
was up, dressed, waiting for daylight enough to 
justify me in the effort to see Mr. Ezekiel Mason, 
and beg him to hire me his team and driver to carry 
the trunks to the depot. After my ready compliance 
with his terms, he agreed to send them as soon as 
possible. The delay caused me to go on a freight 
train to Atlanta, but I congratulated myself upon 



DURING THE WAR. 109 

that privilege, as the trunks and Toby went on the 
same train. There was unusual commotion and ac^ 
tivity about the depot in Atlanta, and a superficial 
observer would have been impressed with the busi- 
ness-like appearance of the little city at that import- 
ant locality. Men, women and children moved about 
as if they meant business. Trains came in rapidly, 
and received their complement of freight, either ani- 
mate or inanimate, and screamed themselves hoarse 
and departed , giving place to others that w^en t through 
wath the same routine. Drays, and ever^^ manner 
of vehicles, blocked the streets, and endangered life, 
limb, and property, of all who could not vie with 
them in push, vim, and dare-deviltry. In vain did I 
appeal to scores of draymen, white ^nd black, to 
carry my trunks to the home of Mr. McArthur, on 
Pry or street— money w^as offered with liberality, but 
to no avail. Despairing of aid, I bade Toby follow 
me, and went to Mr. McArthur's. He and his good 
wife were willing to receive the trunks and give them 
storage room, but could extend no aid in bringing 
them there. At length, as a last resort, it was de- 
cided that Toby should take their w^heelbarrow and 
bring one trunk at a time. I returned w4th him to 
the depot, and had the most valuable trunk placed 
upon the wheelbarrow, and with my occasional aid, 
Toby got it to its destination. A second trip was 
made in like manner, and the third was not a failure, 
although I saw that Toby was very tired. Thanking 
my good friends for the favor they were extending, 
I hurried back to the depot, myself and Toby, to take 
the first train to Decatur. Imagine our consterna- 



110 LIFE IN DIXIE 

tion on learning that the Yankees had dashed in and 
torn up the Georgia Railroad track from Atlanta to 
Decatur, and were pursuing their destructive work 
towards Augusta. Neither for love nor mone3^ could 
a seat in any kind of vehicle going in that direction 
be obtained, nor were I and my attendant the only 
ones thus cut off from home; and I soon discovered 
that a spirit of independence pervaded the crowd. 
Many were the proud possessors of elegant spans of 
"little white ponies" which they did not deem too 
good to propel them homeward. Seeking to infuse a 
little more life and animation into Toby, I said : 

"Well, my boy, what do you think of bringing out 
your little black ponies and running a race with my 
white ones to Decatur? Do you think you can beat 
in the race?" 

"I don't know'm," he said, without his usual 
smile when I essayed a little fun with him, and I evi- 
dently heard him sigh. But knowing there was no al- 
ternative, I started in a brisk walk towards Decatur, 
and said to him, "Come on, or I'll get home before 
you do." He rallied and kept very close to me, and 
we made pretty good time. The gloaming was upon 
us, the period of all others auspicious to thought, 
and to thought I abandoned myself. The strife be- 
tween the sections of a once glorious country was a 
prolific theme, and I dwelt upon it in all of its ramifi- 
cations, and failed to find cause for blame in my 
peculiar people; and my step became prouder, and my 
willingness to endure all things for their sakes and 
mine, was more confirmed. In the midst of these in- 



BUBING THE WAR. lit 

Spiring reflections, Toby, who had somewhat lagged 
behind, came running up to me and said : 

''Oh! Miss Mary, just look at the soldiers! And 
they are ours, too !" 

To my dying day I shall never forget the scene to 
which he called my attention. In the weird stillness 
it appeared as if the Lord had raised up of the stones 
a mighty host to fight our battles. Not a sound was 
heard, nor a word spoken, as those in the van passed 
opposite me, on and on, and on, in the direction 
of Decatur, in what seemed to me an interminable line 
of soldiery. Toby and I kept the track of the de- 
stroyed railroad, and were somewhere between Gen- 
eral Gartrell's residence and Mr. Pitts', the midway 
station between Atlanta and Decatur, when the first 
of these soldiers passed us, and we were atKirkwood 
when that spectre-like band had fully gone by. Once 
the moon revealed me so plainly that a che^r, some- 
what repressed, but nevertheless hearty, resounded 
through the woods, and I asked : 

"Whose command?" 

"Wheeler's Cavalry," was the simultaneous re- 
sponse of many who heard my enquiry. 

"Don't you know me? I am the one you gave the 
best breakfast I ever ate that morning we dashed 
into Decatur before sun-up." 

"And I'm the one too." 

"O, don't mention it," I said. "You are giving 
your lives for me, and the little I can do for you is 
nothing in comparison. May God be with you and 
shield you from harm until this cruel war is over." 



112 LIFE IN DIXIE 

I missed Toby, and looking back, saw him sitting 
down. I hurried to him, saying, ''What is it, my 
boy?'^ 

"O, Miss Mary, I am so sick. I can't go any 
further. You can go on home, and let me stay here 
—when I feel better I'll go too." 

''No, my boy, I'll not leave you." And sitting by 
him I told him to rest hisheaduponmy lap, and maybe 
after awhile he would feel better, and then we would 
goon. In the course of a half hour he vomited copious- 
ly, and soon after told me he felt better, and would 
try to go on. More than once his steps were unsteady 
and he looked dazed ; but under my patient guidance 
and encouraging words he kept up, and we pursued 
our lonely walk until we reached Decatur. 

As soon as we entered the town, we perceived that 
we had overtaken Wheeler's Cavalry. They were 
lying on the ground, asleep, all over the place; and in 
most instances, their horses were lying by them 
sleeping too. And I noticed that the soldiers, even 
though asleep, never released their hold upon the bri- 
dles. At home I found my mother almost frantic. 
She knew nothing of the causes detaining me, and 
supposed that some disaster had befallen me individ- 
ually. A good supper, including a strong cup of tea 
prepared by her hands, awaited us, and I attested my 
appreciation of it by eating heartily. Toby drank a 
cup of tea only, and said he "was ver}- tired and 
hurt all over." 



DURING THE WAB. 113 



CHAPTER XIV. 

The advance guard of the Yankee army — I am ordered out — A 
noble federal. 

The day clear, bright and beautiful, in July, 1864, 
and though a midsummer's sun cast its vertical rays 
upon the richly -carpeted earth, refreshing showers 
tempered the heat and preserved in freshness and 
beauty the vernal robes of May and kept the atmos- 
phere pure and delightful. Blossoms of every hue 
and fragrance decked the landscape, and Ceres and 
Pomona had been as lavish vy^ith their grains and 
fruits as Flora had been with flowers. 

And I, assisted by Toby and Telitha, had gathered 
from the best of these rich offerings, and prepared a 
feast for Wheeler's Cavalry. By the way, strive 
against it as I would, I was more than once dis- 
turbed by the mental inquiry: ''What has become 
of Wheeler's Cavalry? I saw it enter Decatur last 
night, and now there is not a soldier to be seen. It 
is true a large number of scouts came in this morning, 
and spoke comforting words to my mother, and re- 
connoitered around town fearlessly, but what has be- 
come of them ? " Hope whispered : ''Some strategic 
movement that will culminate in the capture of the 
entire Yankee army, no doubt is engaging its atten- 
tion." Yielding to these delusive reflections, and the 
seductive influence of earth, air and sky, I became 



114 LIFE IN DIXIE 

quite exhilarated and hummed little vSnatches of the 
songs I used to sing in the happy days of childhood, 
before a hope had been disappointed or a shadow 
cast over my pathway. 

These scenes and these songs were not in keeping 
with the impending disasters even then at our por- 
tals. Crapen draperies and funeral dirges would 
have been far more in keeping with the developments 
of the day. 

Distant roar of cannon and sharp report of musketry 
spoke in language unmistakable the approach of the 
enemy, and the rapidity of that approach was becom- 
ing fearfully alarming. Decatur offered many advan- 
tages as headquarters to an invading, devastating foe, 
''and three hundred thousand men" under the guid- 
ance of a merciless foe ought to have entered it long 
before they did — and would have done so if their 
bravery had been commensurate with their vandalism. 

"Yank! Yank!" exclaimed our deaf negro girl,. 
Telitha, as she stroked her face as if stroking beard, 
and ran to get a blue garment to indicate the color 
of their apparel, and this was our first intimation of 
their appearance in Decatur. If all the evil spirits had 
been loosed from Hades, and Satan himself had been 
turned loose upon us, a more terriffic, revolting scene 
could not have been enacted. 

Advance guards, composed of every species of crimi- 
nals ever incarcerated in the prisons of the Northern 
States of America, swooped down upon us, and every 
species of deviltry followed in their footsteps. My 
poor mother, frightened and trembling, and myself, 
having locked the doors of the house, took our stand 



DURING THE WAR, 115 

with the servants in the yard, and witnessed the 
grand entre of the menagerie. One of the beasts got 
down upon his all-fours and pawed up the dust and 
bellowed like an infuriated bull. And another asked 
me if I did not expect to see them with hoofs and horns. 
I told him, "No, I had expected to see some gentlemen 
among them, and ^was sorry I should be disap- 
pointed." 

My entire exemption from fear on that occasion 
must have been our safeguard, as no personal violence 
was attempted. He who personated a bull must have 
been the king's fool, and was acting in collusion with 
the house pillagers sent in advance of the main army 
to do the dirty work, and to reduce the peopleto des- 
titution and dependence. While he thought he was en- 
tertaining us with his quadrupedal didos, a horde of 
thieves were rummaging the house, and everything 
of value they could get their hands upon they stole — 
locks and bolts having proved ineifectual barriers to 
this nefarious work. By this time the outside ma- 
rauders had killed every chicken and other fowl upon 
the place, except one setting hen. A fine cow, and 
two calves, and twelve hogs shared a similar fate. 

Several hours had passed since the coming of the 
first installment of the G. A. R., and a few scattering 
officers were perambulating the streets, and an oc- 
casional cavalryman reconnoitering. Having sur- 
veyed the situation, and discovered that only women 
and children and a few faithful negroes occupied the 
town, the main army came in like an avalanche. 
Yea, if an avalanche and a simoon had blended their 



116 LIFE IN DIXIE 

fury and expended it upon that defenseless locality, a 
greater change could scarcely have been wrought. 

The morning's sun had shone upon a scene of luxu- 
riant beauty, and heightened its midsummer loveli- 
ness, but the same sun, only a few hours later, wit- 
nessed a complete transformation, and blight and 
desolation reigned supreme. My mother and myself, 
afraid to go in the house, still maintained our outdoor 
position, and our two faithful servants clung very 
close to us, notwithstanding repeated efforts to in- 
duce them to leave. Our group had received an addi- 
tion. Emmeline, a negro girl whom we had hired 
out in Decatur, had been discharged, and had now 
come home. She was not so faithful as her kith 
and kin, and was soon on familiar terms with the 
bummers. Toby complained of being very tired, and 
when we all came to think about it, we discovered 
that we, too, were tired, and, without being asked, 
took seats upon the capacious lap of mother earth. 
As we w^ere not overly particular about the position 
we assumed, we must have presented quite an 
aboriginal appearance. But what mattered it— we 
were only rebels. Notwithstanding the insignia 
of the conquerer was displayed on every harjd, 
w^e felt to a certain degree more protected by the pres- 
ence of commissioned officers, and ventured to go into 
the house. I will not attempt a description of the 
change that had taken place since we had locked the 
door, and, for better protection, had taken our stand 
in the yard. 

Garrard's Cavalry selected our lot, consisting of 
several acres, for headquarters, and soon what ap- 



DURING THE WAR. 117 

peared to us to be an immense army train of wagons 
commenced rolling into it. In less than two hours our 
barn was demolished and converted into tents, which 
were occupied by privates and non-commissioned 
officers ; and to the balusters of our portico and other 
portions of the house, were tied a number of large 
ropes, which, the other ends being secured to trees and 
shrubbery, answered as a railing to which at short 
intervals apart a number of smaller ropes were tied, 
and to these were attached horses and mules, which 
were eating corn and oats out of troughs improvised 
for the occasion out of bureau, washstand and ward- 
robe drawers. 

Men in groups were playing cards on tables of 
every size and shape; and whisky and profanity held 
high carnival. Thus surrounded we could but be ap- 
prehensive of danger; and, to assure ourselves of as 
much safety as possible, we barricaded the doors and 
windows, and arranged to sit up all night, that is, 
my mother and myself. 

Toby complained of being very tired, and "hurt- 
ing all over," as he expressed it. We assisted him in 
making the ver^^ best pallet that could be made of the 
material at our command, and he lay down completely 
prostrated. Telitha was wide awake, and whenever 
she could secure a listener chattered like a magpie in 
unintelligible language, accompanied by unmistakable 
gestures — gestures w^hich an accomplished elocutionist 
might adopt with effect— and the burden of her heart 
was for Emmeline. Emmeline having repudiated our 
protection, had sought shelter, the Lord only knows 
where. Alas, poor girl! 



118 LIFE IN DIXIE 

As we sat on a lounge, every chair having been tak- 
en to the camps, we heard the sound of footsteps en- 
tering the piazza, and in a moment, loud rapping, 
which meant business. Going to the window nearest 
the door, I removed the fastenings, raised the sash, 
and opened the bhnds. Perceiving by the Hght of a 
brilHant moon that at least a half-dozen men in uni- 
forms were on the piazza, I asked : 

''Who is there?" 

''Gentlemen," was the laconic reply. 

"If so, you will not persist in your effort to come 
into the house. There is only a widow and one of her 
daughters, and two faithful servants in it," I said. 

"We have orders from headquarters to interviev^ 
Miss Gay. Is she the daughter of whom you speak?" 

"She is, and I am she." 

"Well, Miss Gay, we demand seeing you, without 
intervening barriers. Our orders arc imperative, "said 
he who seemed to be the spokesman of the delega- 
tion. 

"Then wait a moment," I amiably responded. Go- 
ing to my mother I repeated in substance the above 
colloquy, and asked her if she would go ^with me out 
of one of the back doors and around the house into 
the front yard. Although greatly agitated and trem- 
bling, she readily assented, and we noiselessly went 
out. In a few moments we announced our presence, 
and our visitors descended the steps and joined us. 
And those men, occupying a belligerent attitude to- 
wards ourselves and all that was dear to us, stood 
face to face and in silence contemplated each other. 
When the silence was broken the aforesaid officer in- 



DURING THE WAR. t 119 

troduced himself as Major Campbell, a member of 
General Schofield's staif. He also introduced the ac- 
companying officers each by name and title. This 
ceremony over, Major Campbell said: 

"Miss Ga3% our mission is a pamful one, and yet 
we will have to carry it out unless you satisfactorily 
explain acts reported to us." 

''What is the nature of those acts?" 

We have been told that it is your proudest boast 
that you are a rebel, and that you are ever on duty 
to aid and abet in every possible way the would-be 
destroyers of the United States government. If this 
be so, we cannot permit you to remain ^thin our 
lines. Until Atlanta surrenders, Decatur will be our 
headquarters, and every consideration of interest to 
our cause requires that no one inimical to it should 
remain within our boundaries established by con- 
quest." 

In reply to these charges, I said : 

^'Gentlemen, I have not been misrepresented, so far 
as the charges you mention are concerned. If I were 
a man, I should be in the foremost ranks of those who 
are fighting for rights guaranteed by the Constitu- 
tion of the United States. The Southern people have 
never broken that compact, nor infringed upon it in 
any "way. They have never organized mobs to assas- 
sinate any portion of the people sharing the privi- 
leges granted by that compact. They have con- 
structed no underground railroads to bring into our 
midst incendiaries and destroyers of the peace, and 
to carry off stolen property. They have never sought 
to array the subordinate element of the North in 



120 , LIFE IN DIXIE 

deadly hostility to the controlling element. No class 
of the yv^omen of the South have ever sought posi- 
tions at the North which secured entrance into good 
households, and then betrayed the confidence reposed 
by corrupting the servants and alienating the rela- 
tions between the master and the servant. No class 
of the women of the South have ever mounted the 
rostrum and proclaimed falsehoods against the wo- 
men of the North — falsehoods which must have crim- 
soned with shame the very cheeks of Beelzebub. 

"No class of the men of the South have ever tramped 
over the North with humbugs, extorting money either 
through sympathy or credulity, and engaged at the 
same time in the nefarious work of exciting the sub- 
ordinate class to insurrection, arson, rapine and mur- 
der. If the South is in rebellion, a well-organized 
mob at the North has brought it about. Long years 
of patient endurance accomplished nothing. The 
party founded on falsehood and hate strengthened 
and grew to enormous proportions. And, by the 
way, mark the cunning of that party. Poinding that 
the Abolition party made slow progress and had to 
Avork in the dark, it changed its name and took in 
new issues, and by a systematic course of lying in its 
institutions of learning, from the lowly school-house 
to Yale College, and from its pulpits and rostrums, it 
inculcated lessons of hate towards the Southern peo- 
ple whom it would hurl into the crater of Vesuvius if 
endowed with the power. What was left us to do but 
to try to relieve that jjortion of the countr^^ which 
had permitted this sentiment of hate to predominate, 
of all connection with us, and of all responsibility for 



DURING THE WAB. 121 

the sins of which it proclaimed us guilty? This effort 
the South has made, and I have aided and abetted in 
every possible manner, and will continue to do so just 
as long as there is an armed man in Southern ranks. 
If this be sufficient cause to expel me from my home^ 
I want your orders. I have no favors to ask." 

Imagine my astonishment, admiration and grati- 
tude, when that group of Federal officers, with unani- 
mity said : 

''I glory in your spunk, and am proud of you as my 
countrywoman; and so far from banishing you 
from your home, we will vote for your retention 
within our lines." 

Thus the truth prevailed ; but a new phase of the 
conflict was inaugurated, as proved by subsequent 
developments. 

Turning to my mother. Major Campbell said: 

"Mother, how did our advance guards treat 3'ou?" 

A quiveringof the lips, and a tearful effort tospeak, 
was all the response she could make. The aggra- 
vation of already extreme nervousness was doing its 
work. 

''Would you like to see?" I said. He indicated 
rather than expressed an affirmative answer. 

I went around and entered the house, and, opening 
the front door, invited him and his friends to come in. 
A hindrance to the exhibit I was anxious to make 
presented itself — we had neither candle nor lamp, 
and this I told to the officers. Calling to a man in 
the nearest camp. Major Campbell asked him to bring 
a light. This being done, I led the way into the front 
room, and there our distinguished guests were con- 



122 LIFE IN DIXIE 

fronted by a huge pallet occupied by a sixteen-year- 
old negro boy. A thrill of amusement evidently 
passed through this group of western men, and elec- 
trical glances conveyed messages of distrust when I 
told them of my walk yesterday afternoon, accom- 
panied by this boy, and his exhaustion before we got 
home, and his complaints of '' hurting all over" before 
he lay down an hour ago, 

A low consultation was held, and one of the officers 
left and soon returned wdth another who proved to be 
a physician. He aroused the boy, asked several ques- 
tions, and examined his pulse and tongue. 

''That will do," said he, and turning to the others, 
he said : 

"He is a very sick boy, and needs medical treat- 
ment at once. I will prescribe and go for the medicine, 
"which I wish given according to directions." 

Having received a statement of the boy's condi- 
tion from a trusted source, we were evidently re-in- 
tated into the good opinion of Major Campbell and 
his friends. Telitha had retired from them to as great 
a distance as the boundaries of the room would per- 
mit, and every time she caught my eye she looked and 
acted what she could not express in words — utter 
aversion for the "Yank." 

We now resumed our inspection of the interior of 
the house. The contents of every drawer were on the 
floor, every article of value having been abstracted. 
Crockery scattered all over the room, suggested to the 
-ej^e that it had been used to pelt the ghosts of the 
witches burned in Massachusetts a century or two ago. 
Outrages and indignities too revolting to mention met 



BUBING THE WAR. 123 

the eye at ever^" turn. And the state of affairs in the 
parlor baffled descriptior . Not an article had escaped 
the destroyer's touch but the piano, and circum- 
stances which followed proved that that was re- 
garded as a trophy and only waited removal. 

"Vandals! Vandals!" Major Campbell sorrowfully 
exclaimed, and all his friends echoed the opinion, and 
said: 

''If the parties who did this work could be identified, 
we would hang them as high as Haman." 

But these parties were never identified. They were 
important adjuncts in the process of subjugation. 

After wishing that the worst was over with us, 
these gentlemen, who had come in no friendly mood, 
bade us good night and took their leave. Thus the 
Lord of Hosts, in His infinite mercy, furnished a just 
tribunal to pass judgment upon my acts as a South- 
ern woman, and that judgment, influenced by facts 
and surroundings, was just and the verdict humane. 



124 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER XY. 

The Battle of the 22d of July, 1864— The Death of Toby. 

The excitement incident to the morning and even- 
ing of yesterday left my mother and myself in no 
frame of mine for repose, and we spent the night in 
suspense and painful apprehension of trouble yet to 
come greater and more direful than that through 
which we had passed. The medicine left for Toby by 
the physician summoned last night, was faithfully 
administered according to direction, and the morn- 
ing found him better, though able to sit up only for 
a short while at a time. Measles had developed, and 
we felt hopeful that it would prove to be a very slight 
attack ; and such it might have been could we have 
controlled him properly, but the excitement and ever- 
var3ang scenes in the yard, and as far as vision ex- 
tended, were so new and strange to him that, when 
unobserved, he spent much of his time at a window 
commanding the best view of the scene, and, thus 
exposed to a current of air, the disease ceased to ap- 
pear on the surface and a troublesome cough ensued. 

Having been without food since the preceding 
morning, our thoughts turned to the usual prepara- 
tion for breakfast, but, alas, those preparations had 
to be dispensed of, as we had nothing to prepare. 
This state of affairs furnished food for at least seri- 
ous reflection, and the inquiry, "What are we to do?" 



DURING THE WAU. 125 

found audible expression. The inexorable demands 
of hunger could not be stifled, and we knew that the 
sick boy needed hot tea and the nourishment which 
food alone could give, and ^'-et we had nothing for 
ourselves or for him — so complete had been the rob- 
bery of the "advance guards" of the Grand Army 
of the Republic, that not a thing, animate or inan- 
imate, remained with which to appease our hunger. 
"What are we to do?" was iterated and re-iterated, 
and no solution of the question presented itself. 
Even then appetizing odors from the camp-fires were 
diffusing themselves upon the air and entering our 
house, but aliens were preparing the food and we 
had no part in it. We debated this question, and 
firmly resolved not to expose ourselves to the jeers 
and insults of the enemy by any act of ours that 
would seem to ask for food ; but that we would go 
to other Southern citizens in the war-stricken and 
almost deserted town, and, if they were not com- 
pletely robbed, ask them to share their supplies with 
us until we could procure aid from outside of the 
lines so arbitrarily drawn. 

In this dilemma an unexpected relief came to us, and 
convinced us that there was good even in Nazareth. 
And a large tray, evidently well-filled, and covered 
with a snow-white cloth, was brought in by an Irish- 
man, who handed a card to my mother containing 
these words : 

"To Mrs. Stokes and daughter, Miss Gay, with 
comphments of (Major) Campbell. 

"Please accept this small testimonial of regard 
and repectful sympathy." 



126 LIFE IN DIXIE 

The latter part of the brief message was the 
sesame that secured acceptance of this offering, and 
my mother and myself jointly acknowledged it with 
sincere thanks, and again we thought of Elijah and 
the ravens. The contents of the tray — coffee, sugar 
and tea, sliced ham and a variety of canned relishes, 
butter, potatoes, and oatmeal and bread, were re- 
moved and the tray returned. That tray on its hu- 
mane mission, having found its w^ay into our house, 
more than once opportunely re-appeared. We en- 
joyed the repast thus furnished, although briny tears 
were mingled with it. 

The day passed without any immediate adventure. 
Great activity prevailed in army ranks. The coming 
and going of cavalry ; the clatter of sabre and spur; 
the constant booming of cannon and report of 
musketry, all convinced us that the surrender of At- 
lanta by the Confederates was but a question of time. 
A few thousand men, however brave and gallant, 
could not cope successfully with "three hundred thou- 
sand" who ignored every usage of civilized warfare^ 
and fought only for conquest 

I cannot say how long this state of affairs lasted 
before Wheeler's Cavalry, supported by Confederate 
infantry, stole a march upon the Yankees and put 
them to flight. Garrard and his staff officers were in 
our parlor — their parlor pro tern. — holding a coun- 
cil ; the teamsters and army followers were lounging 
about promiscuously, cuising and swearing and 
playing cards, and seeming not to notice the ap- 
proaching artillery until their attention was called 
to it, and then they contended that it was their men 



DURING THE WAR. 127 

firing off blank cartridges. I intuitively" felt that a 
conflict was on hand. Ma and I held whispered con- 
versations and went from one window to another, and 
finallj" rushed into the yard. Men in the camps ob- 
served our excitement and said, "Don't be alarmed, 
it is only the men firing off their blank cartridges." 
The irony of fate was never more signally illus- 
trated than on this occasion. I would have laid 
down my life, yea, a thousand breathing, pulsing 
lives of my own, to have witnessed the overthow of 
the Yankee army, and 3^et, I may have been the 
means of saving a large portion of it on that occa- 
sion. Dreading for my mother's sake and for the 
sake of the deaf girl and the sick boy, an attack 
upon the forces which covered our grounds, I ran to 
one of the parlor doors and knocked heavily and ex-^ 
citedly. An oflScer unlocked the door and opening it 
said: 

"What is it?" 

"Our men must be nearly here,'' I replied. 

"Impossible," he said, and yet, with a bound he 
was in the yard, followed in quick succession by each 
member of the conclave. 

A signal, long, loud and shrill, awakened the 
drowsy, and scattered to the four winds of heaven 
cards, books and papers ; and, in a few minutes, horses 
and mules were hitched to wagons, and the mules, 
wagons and men were fairly flying from the ap- 
proach of the Confederates. Women and children 
came pouring in from every direction and the house 
was soon filled. Before Garrard's wagon train was 
three hundred yards away, our yard was full of our 



128 LIFE IN DIXIE 

men — our own dear ''Johnnie Rebs." Oothcaloga 
Vallej' boys, whom I had known from babyhood, 
kissed, in passing, the hand that waved the handker- 
chief. An officer, ah, how grand he looked in gray uni- 
form, came dashing up and said : 

''Go in your cellar and lie down, the Federals are 
forming a line of battle, and we, too, will form one 
that will reach across these grounds, and your house 
will be between the two lines. Go at once." 

My mother ran and got Toby's shoes and put them 
on for him, and told him to get up and come with 
her, and as he went out of the house, tottering, I 
threw a blanket over him, and he and Telitha went 
with ma to our near neighbor, Mrs. Williams, her 
cellar being considered safer than ours. I remained 
in our house for the twofold purpose of taking care 
of it, if possible, and of protecting, to tlie best of my 
ability, the precious women and children who had 
fled to us for protection. Without thought of myself 
I got them all into the room that I thought would 
be safest, and urged them to lie down upon the floor 
and not to move during the battle. Shot and shell 
flew in every direction, and the shingles on the roof 
were following suit, and the leaves, and the limbs, and 
the bark of the trees were descending in showers so 
heavy as almost to obscure the view of the contend- 
ing forces. The roaring of cannon and the sound of 
musketry blended in harmony so full and so grand, 
and the scene was so absorbing that I thought not of 
personal danger, and more than once found m^^self 
outside of the portals ready to rush into the conflict— 
for was not I a soldier, enlisted for the w^ar? Nor 



DURING THE WAB. 129 

was I the only restless, intrepid person in the house 
on that occasion. An old lady, in whose veins 
flowed the blood of the Washingtons, was there, and 
it was with the greatest difficulty that I restrained 
her from going out in the arena of warfare. The 
traditions of her ancestors were so interwoven with 
her life, that, at an age bordering on fourscore 
years and ten, they could not relax their hold upon 
her; and she and I might have gone in opposite direc- 
tions had we fled to the ranks of the contending 
armies. 

Mine was, no doubt, the only feminine eye that wit- 
nessed the complete rout of the Federals on that oc- 
casion. At first I could not realize what they were 
doing, and feared some strategic movement; but the 
''rebel yell" and the flying blue-coats brought me to 
a full realization of the situation, and I, too, joined 
in the loud acclaim of victory. And the women and 
children, until now panic-stricken and silent as 
death, joined in the rejoicing. All the discourage- 
ments of the past few weeks fled from me, and hope 
revived, and I was happy, oh, so happy ! I had seen 
a splendidly-equipped army, Schofield's division, I 
think, ignominiously flee from a little band of lean, 
lank, hungry, poorly-clad Confederate soldiers, and 
I doubted not an over-ruling Providence would lead 
us to final victory. 

When the smoke of battle cleared away, my mother 
and her ebony charge returned home. Toby quickly 
sought his pallet, and burning fevers soon rendered 
him delirious the greater part of the time. In one of 
his lucid intervals, he asked me to read the Bible to 



130 LIFE IN DIXIE 

him, and he told me what he wanted me to read 
about, and said : 

''Miss Missouri used to read it to me, and I 
thought it was so pretty." And I read to him the 
story of the cross — of Jesus' dying love, and heHstened 
and believed. I said to him : 

''My boy, do you think you are going to die?" 

"Yes'm,I thinki am." 

I bowed my head close to him and wept, oh, how 
bitterly . 

"Miss Mary, don't you think I'll go to heaven?" 
he anxiously asked. 

"Toby, my boy, there is one thing I want to tell 
you ; can you listen to me?" 

"Yes'm." 

"I have not always been just to you. I have often 
accused you of doing things that I afterwards found 
you did not do, and then I was not good enough to 
acknowledge that I had done w^rong. And when you 
did wrong I was not forgiving enough ; and more 
than once I have punished you for little sins, when I, 
with all the lights before me, was committing greater 
ones everyday, and going unpunished, save by a 
guilty conscience. And now, my boy, I ask you to 
forgive me. Can you do it?" 

"Oh, yes'm!" 

"Are you certain that you do? Are you sure that 
there is no unforgiving spirit in you towards your 
poor Miss Mary, who is so sorry for all she has ever 
done that was wrong towards you?" 

"Oh, yes'm!" 



DURING THE WAR. 13^1 

''Then, my boy, ask the Lord to forgive you for 
your sins just as I have asked you to forgive me, 
and He will do it for the sake of Jesus, who died on 
the cross that sinners might be redeemed from their 
sins and live with Him in heaven. 

I can never forget the ineffable love, and faith and 
gratitude depicted in that poor boy's face while I live, 
and as I held his soft black hand in mine, I thought 
of its willing service to "our boys" and wept to think 
I could do no more for him, and that his young life 
was going out before he knew the result of the cruel 
war that was waged by the Abolitionists ! He 
noticed my grief, and begged me not to feel so badty, 
and added that he was willing to die. 

I arose from my position by his bed and asked him 
if there was anything in the Avorld I could do f or 
him. Iq reply he said : 

"I would like to have a drink of water from the 
Floyd spring." 

''You shall have it, my boy, just as soon as I can 
go there and back," and I took a pitcher and ran to 
the spring and filled and refilled it several times, that 
it might be perfectly cool, and went back with it as 
quickly as possible. He drank a goblet full of this de- 
licious water and said it was "so good," and then 
added : 

"You drink some, too, Miss Mary, and give Miss 
Polly some." 

I did so, and he was pleased. He coughed less and 
complained less than he had done since the change for 
the worse, and I deluded myself into the hope that he 
might yet recover. In a short while he went to sleep, 



132 LIFE IN DIXIE 

and his breathing became very hard and his temper- 
ature indicated a high degree of fever. I urged m^- 
mother to he down, and assured her that if I thought 
she could do anything for Toby at any time during 
the night I would call her. 

I sat there alone by that dying boy. Not a move- 
ment on his part betrayed pain. His breathing was 
hard and at intervals spasmodic. With tender hands 
I changed the position of his head, and for a little 
while he seemed to breathe easier. But it was only 
for a little while, and then it was evident that soon 
he would cease to breathe at all. I went to my 
mother and waked her gently and told her I thought 
the end was near with Toby, and hurried back to 
him. I thought him dead even then, but after an in- 
terval he breathed again and again, and all was over. 
The life had gone back to the God who gave it, and I 
doubt not but that it will live with Him forever. The 
pathos of the scene can never be understood by those 
who have not witnessed one similar to it in all its de- 
tails, and I will not attempt to describe it. No time- 
piece marked the hour, but it was about midnight, I 
ween, when death set the spirit of that youthful ne- 
gro free. Not a kindred being nor a member of his 
own race was near to lay loving hand upon him, or 
to prepare his Httle body for burial. We stood and 
gazed upon him as he lay in death in that desolated 
house, and thought of his fideHty and loving interest 
in our cause and its defenders, and of his faithful ser- 
vice in our efforts to save something from vandal 
hands, and the fountain of tears was broken up and 
we wept with a peculiar grief over that lifeless form. 



DURING THE WAB. 133 

My mother was the first to become calm, and she 
came very near me and said, as if afraid to trust her 
voice : 

** Wouldn't it be well to ask Eliza Williams and oth- 
ers to come and 'lay him out?' " 

Before acting on this suggestion I went into an- 
other room and waked Telitha and took her into the 
chamber of death. A dim and glimmering light pre- 
vented her from taking in the full import of the scene 
at first ; but I took her near the couch, and, pointing 
to him, I said : 

''Dead!— Dead!" 

She repeated interrogatively, and, when she fully 
realized that such wras the case, her cries ^were piti- 
able, oh, so pitiable. 

I sank dow^n upon the floor and waited for the par- 
oxysm of grief to subside, and theif went to her and 
made her understand that I was going out and that 
she must stay with her mistress until I returned. An 
hour later, under the skillful manipulation of good 
"Eliza Williams" — known throughout Decatur as 
Mrs. Ami Williams' faithful servant — and one or two 
others whom she brought with her, Toby was robed 
in a nice w^hite suit of clothes prepared for the occa- 
sion by the faithful hands of his "Miss Polly," whom 
he had loved well and who had cared for him in his 
orphanage. 

We had had intimation that the Federals would 
again occupy Decatur, and as soon as day dawned 
I w^ent to see Mr. Robert Jones, Sen., and got him to 
make a coffin for Toby, and I then asked "Uncle 
Mack," and "Henry" — now known as Decatur's 



134 LIFE IN DIXIE 

Henry Oliver — to dig the grave. Indeed, these two 
men agreed to attend to the matter of his burial. 
After consultation with my mother, it was agreed 
that that should take place as soon as all things w^ere 
in readiness. Mr. Jones made a pretty, well-shaped 
coffin out of good heart pine, and the two faithful 
negro men already mentioned prepared with care the 
grave. When all was in readiness, the dead boy was 
placed in the coffin and borne to the grave by very 
gentle hands. 

Next to the pall-bearers my mother and myself and 
Telitha fell in line, and then followed the few negroes 
yet remaining in the town, and that funeral cortege 
was complete. 

At the grave an unexpected and most welcome 
stranger appeared. ''Uncle Mack" told me he was a 
minister, and would perform the funeral service — 
and grandly did he do it. The very soul of prayer 
seemed embodied in this negro preacher's invocation ; 
nor did he forget Toby's "nurses," and every conso- 
lation and blessing was besought for them. And 
thus our Toby received a Christian burial. 



DURING THE WAR. 135 



CHAPTER XVI. 

EVERETT'S DESERTION. 

During the early spring of that memorable year, 
1864, it was announced to the citizens of Decatur, 
that Judge Hook and family, including his accom- 
plished daughter, Mrs. Whitesides, and her children, 
from Chattanooga, had arrived at the depot, and 
were domiciled, pro tern., in cars which had been 
switched off the main track of the famous old Geor- 
gia Railroad. This novel mode of living even in war 
times, by people in their monetary condition and so- 
cial standing, naturally attracted much attention, and 
brought us to a full realization of approaching dan- 
ger. That this family, accustomed to all the luxuries 
of an elegant home, should live in such an abode, 
with its attendant privations, was convincing proof 
that the home they had abandoned had become intol- 
erable because of the proximity of the enemy ; and it 
was also fearfully suggestive that that ubiquitous 
enemy was extending his dominion and bringing the 
fiery, bloody conflict into the very heart of the 
*' rebellion." 

A rebellion, by way of parenthesis, which impar- 
tial historians will put on record as the grandest up- 
rising of a long suffering people that was ever known 
in the annals of nations; "a mutiny" (as that chief 
of Southern haters, John Lathrop Motley, whose 



136 LIFE IN DIXIE 

superb egotism impressed him with the idea that his 
influence could change the poHtical trend of Great 
Britain towards the South, has seen proper to de- 
nominate it) in the camp of American councils 
brought about by unceasing abuse of the Southern 
States by political tricksters, whose only hope of 
survival lay in the hatred for the South thus engend- 
ered. 

The coming of Judge Hook's family was hailed 
with pleasure by all good and loyal citizens, and was 
a ligament connecting more closely states suffering 
in a common cause ; and we all called upon them and 
soon numbered them with our intimate friends. Mrs. 
Whitesides and Miss Hook were effective workers in 
all that benefited our soldiers or their families. 

Judge Hook was the superintendent of Govern- 
ment Iron Works, and literally brought the foundry 
as well as the operatives with him. Among the lat- 
ter was a man by the name of Everett, who, with his 
family, consisting of his wife and five children, oc- 
cupied an old one-room house near a corner of our 
home lot. Athough a hearty, hale, and rather good- 
looking man, Everett was very poor, and the first 
time I ever saw his wife she came to borrow "a little 
flour." As my mother never turned away from a 
borrower, Mrs. Everett's vessel was filled to over- 
flowing, and, besides, a pitcher of buttermilk and a 
plate of butter was given to her, for which she was 
extremely grateful. 

An acquaintance thus begun continued during the 
spring and early summer months, and there was not 
a day during that period that my mother did not 



DURING THE WAR. 137 

find it canvenieiitj to do something for this family. 
Mrs. Everett was more than ordinarily intelligent 
for a person in her position , and the blush which 
mantled her pretty cheeks when she asked for any- 
thing betrayed her sensibility ; and her children were 
prettj^ and sweet-mannered. I never saw Everett, 
only as I met him going and coming from his work, 
and on those occasions he showed the greatest re- 
spect for me by taking off his hat as he approached 
me and holding it in his hand until he had fully passed. 
He seemed to be a steady worker, and if he ever lost 
a day, I never heard of it ; and Mrs. Everett was 
industrious, but much of the time unemployed for 
lack of material with which to work, and she often 
begged for something to do. She was anxious to 
work for our soldiers, and told me that all of her 
male relatives were in the Confederate army. This 
circumstance endeared her very much to me ; and I 
made the support of his famil3^ very much easier to 
Everett than it would have been had he lived in a 
non-appreciative neighborhood. And when the vil- 
lage girls met at our house to practice for concerts 
for the benefit of our soldiers, which they did almost 
weekly, I never forgot that Mrs. Everett's brothers 
were in our army fighting valiantly, no doubt, for 
our cause, and I alwa^^s asked her to come and bring 
her children to my room and listen with me to the 
sweet music and patriotic songs. 

As time sped, many opportunities for witnessing 
Mrs. Everett's devotion to her native land presented 
themselves; and her service to its defenders, though 
humble and unobtrusive, was valuable. Her children, 



138 LIFE IN DIXIE 

too, always spoke lovingly of our soldiers, and were 
tiever more happy than when doing something for 
them. At length the time came for another move of 
the foundry, and quietly, as if by magic, it and its 
appurtenants, under the judicious management of 
Judge Hook, got on wheels and ran at the rate of 
thirty -five miles an hour until it reached Augusta — 
another haven of rest invested with heavenly beauty. 
After the departure of this important adjunct to this 
portion of the Confederacy, it was discovered that 
Everett and his family remained in Decatur. And a 
remarkable change came over them. Instead of the 
free-spoken, unsophisticated woman that she had ai- 
rways appeared to be, Mrs. Everett became reserved 
and taciturn, and seldom left the enclosure by which 
her humble dwelling was surrounded. And the chil- 
dren ceased to cheer us by their merry prattle, and 
daily trip for a pitcher of buttermilk, which, under 
the changed and unexplained circumstances, my 
mother sent to them. 

On the never-to-be-forgotten 19th day of July, 
1864, when a portion of Sherman's army dashed into 
Decatur, it obtained a recruit. In an incredibly short 
time, Everett was arrayed in the uniform of a Yan- 
kee private, and was hustling around with the Yan- 
kees as if ''to the manner born." 

On the 22d of July, w^hen the Confederates ran 
the Yankees out of the little village the^^ had so 
pompously occupied for a few days, Everett disap- 
peared, and so did his family from the little house on 
the corner. I supposed they had left Decatur, until 
I went out in town to see if I could hear anything 



DURING THE WAR. 139 

from the victors — their losses, etc. — when by chancel 
discovered that they had taken shelter in the old 
post-office building on the northeast corner of the 
court-house square. 

The morning after the hurried evacuation of Deca- 
tur by the Federal troops, I arose, as was my cus- 
tom, as day was dawning, and, as soon as I thought 
I could distinguish objects, I opened the front door 
and stepped out on the portico. As I stood looking 
upon the ruin and devastation of my war-stricken 
home, imagine my surprise and consternation when 
I saw a white handkerchief held by an invisible 
hand above a scuppernong grape arbor. My first 
impulse was to seek security within closed doors, but 
the thought occurred to me that some one might be in 
distress and needed aid. I therefore determined to 
investigate the case. In jDursuance of this object I 
went down the steps, and advanced several yards in 
the direction of the waving signal, and asked : 

''Who is there?" 

"Come a little nearer, please," was the distinct an- 
swer. 

''I am near enough to hear you ; what can I do for 
you?" I said, and did go a little nearer. 

''Miss Mary, don't be afraid of me; I would die for 
you and such as you, but I cannot die for a lost 
cause" — and through an opening in the foliage of the 
vines, which were more on the ground than on the 
scaffolding, a head protruded— handsome brown 
eyes, and dark whiskers, included — Everett's head, in 
all the naturalness of innocence. 



■140 LIFE IN DIXIE 

I thotight of his wife and of his children, and of 
his wife's brothers in the Confederate army, and 
again asked with dehberation : 

"What can I do for you?" 

''Bless me or curse me," was the startling answer, 
and he continued : 

''Your kindness to my wife and children has nerved 
me to come to you and ask that you will aid me in 
seeing them, especially her. Will you do it?" 

"Yes, though I despise you for the step you have 
taken, I will grant your request. Don't be afraid that 
I will betray you." 

"Where shall I go?" he asked, with a perceptible 
tremor in his voice. 

"While I am out here seeming to prop up these 
shrubs, make your way to the kitchen and enter its 
front door, and don't close it after you, but let it re- 
main wide open. But be still until I tell you to start." 

As if going for something, I walked hastily around 
the house and kitchen, and entering the latter brought 
out an old hoe, and seemed to use it quite industri- 
ously in banking up earth around fallen shrubbery. 
Watching an opportunity — for in those war times all 
things, animate and inanimate, seemed to have ears 
— I said : 

"When I go in the house, you must go into the 
kitchen, and be certain to let the doors remain open." 

I never knew how Everett made this journey, 
whether upright as a man, or upon all -fours like a 
beast. 

From sheer exhaustion my poor mother was sleep- 
ing still, and Toby's breathing and general appear- 



DURING THE WAR. 141 

ance as he lay upon his pallet, plainly indicated the 
presence of deep-seated disease. I looked around for 
Telitha, and not seeing her, went into the dining room 
where I found her sitting by a window. By unmis- 
takable signs she made me understand that she had 
witnessed the entire proceeding connected with 
Everett through the window blinds. 

Soon the loud tramping of horses' feet caused me 
to run again to the front door, and I beheld a number 
of our scouts approaching. I went to meet them and 
shook hands with every one of them. No demonstra- 
tion, however enthusiastic, could have been an exag- 
geration of my joy on again seeing our men, our 
dear Confederate soldiers, and yet I thought of Ever- 
ett and trembled. 

''Have 3^ou seen any Billy Yanks this morning?" 
was asked by several of them ; and I replied : 

"No, I have not seen anj^ since our men ran them 
out of Decatur yesterday." 

''How did they treat you while they were here?" 

"You see the devastation of the place," 1 replied. 
"Personally we escaped violence; but I would like 
you to go into the house and see the condition of 
affairs there." 

Said they : 

"It w^ould not be new to us. We have seen the 
most wanton destruction of property and household 
goods wherever they have gone." 

"Do wait and let me have a pot of coffee made 
for you. The Yankees gave our negro girl quite a 
good deal of it, and not using it herself, she gave it to 



142 LIFE IN DIXIE 

my mother, and I want yon to ,enjoy some of it," I 
said. They replied : 

'^Soldiers can't wait for luxuries." 

''Good-bye and God bless you," was their parting 
benediction. And then as if impelled by some strange 
inspiration, they galloped round to the well. I ran in- 
to the house and got several tumblers and f airl^^ flew 
out there with them, as there ^was no gourd at the 
well. The kitchen was in close proximity, and the 
door stood invitingly open. What if a bare suspi- 
cion should prompt these brave men to enter? Alas I 
All would be up ^th the poor miscreant who had 
thrown himself upon my mercy, and who was even 
then lurking there under my direction. Buv, thank 
the good Lord, they did not enter, and, after again 
invoking God's blessing upon me, they galloped off 
in a southerly direction; and never did retreating 
sounds give more relief. 

I went into the house. My mother, thoroughly 
exhausted, and perhaps discouraged, chose to remain 
in bed, and as she lay gazing intently upon the wall 
above her, I doubt if she saw it, so intense was her 
meditation. As Telitha by this time had a fire made 
in the dining room, I prepared a pot of good strong 
coffee, and after partaking of the exhilarating bev- 
erage myself, and seeing that each of the household 
was supplied, I took the remainder w^ith necessary 
adjuncts to Everett. Never will I forget his appear- 
ance as we stood face to face — he a miserable deserter 
from the cause I loved, and the recipient of favors I 
scorned myself for besto wing. I told him I would go 
at once for his wife, and that after seeing her he must 



DURING THE WAR. 145 

make his way into the enemy's Hnes as soon as possi- 
ble. 

A few minutes sufficed to carry me to Mrs. Ever- 
ett's retreat, already mentioned. I sat down on the 
front doorsteps and drew from my pocket a news- 
paper, which chanced to be there, and commenced 
reading aloud. At length I saw that my presence 
had attracted the notice of the children, and I called 
them. One by one they came to me, and I shook 
hands with them and asked thetn about their mother. 
Hearing m\^ voice and inquiries, she spoke tome most 
pleasantW. I asked her to come out and take a seat 
by me on the steps. She did so, blushingly and tim- 
idly . I wrote on the margin of the paper, ''Send the 
children away," and handed it to her. She did so. 
Assured that they were not in hearing distance, I 
held the paper before me, and, as if reading, I told her 
the story of my early interview with her husband ; 
of his earnest desire to see her ; of my consent, on her 
account, to plan a meeting with her; of his secretion 
in our kitchen ; and the necessity of the greatest cau- 
tion in our movements. I told her that after vyalk- 
ing around a httle, and exchanging experiences with 
the brave ladies of the village, she would see me, by 
keeping watch, going home, and then she could take 
a little basket in her hand, as if going for something, 
and come on to our house. She implicitly followed 
my directions. My mother received her as if noth- 
ing of an unpleasant nature had transpired; and, 
although it is a very difficult problem, and never 
Solved without the aid of necromancy, I undertook to 
deduct something from nothing, and so far succeeded 



144 LIFE IN DIXIE 

that I had several small packages to lay in her basket 
as she started. Knowing that she knew the way to 
the kitchen,! gaveher a wish that all would end well, 
and bade her good-bye, never, doubtless, to meet her 
again on earth. The tears flowed plenteously down 
her cheeks, and her tongue refused to speak, but the 
pressure of her hand attested gratitude, and affection, 
and farevsrell. I got a glimpse of her as she went out 
of the alley gate ; but I never knew when he aban- 
doned his hiding place. I heard that about dusk a 
F'ederal army wagon, under protection of a com- 
pany of troops, came and took her and her little chil- 
dren out of Decatur. 



DURING THE WAR. 145 



CHAPTER XVII. 

A visit to Confederate lines — A narrow escape — My return — The 
fall of Atlanta . 

No news from ''the front;" no tidings from the 
loved ones in gray ; no friendly spirit whispering 
words of cheer or consolation. Shut up within a 
narrow space, and guarded by Federal bayonets ! not 
a ray of friendly light illuminated my environment. 

The constant roaring of cannon and rattling of 
inusketry; the thousand, yea, tens of thousands of 
shots blending into one grand continuous whole, and 
reverberating in avalanchan volume over the hills of 
Fulton, and the mountain heights of old DeKalb — 
told in thunder tones of the fierce contest between 
Federal and Confederate forces being waged without 
intermission for the possession of Atlanta. 

The haughty, insolent boast of the enemy, now 
that Joe Johnston was removed from the command 
of the Army of the Tennessee, that they would make 
quick work of the rebellion, and of the complete 
subjugation of the South, had in no way a tendency 
to mitigate anxiety or to encourage hope. Thus sur- 
rounded, I sought and obtained permission to read 
Federal newspapers. The United States mail brought 
daily papers to the officers in command of the forces 
quartered in our yard ; and through this medium I 
kept posted, from a Northern standpoint, concerning 
the situation of both armies. While there was little 



146 LIFE IN DIXIE 

in these dispatches gratifying to me, there was much 
that I thought would be valuable to my people if I 
could only convey it to them ; and I racked my brain 
day and night, devising ways and means by which 
to accomplish this feat. But the ways and means de- 
cided upon, were, upon reflection, invariably aban- 
doned, as being impracticable. 

In this dilemma, a most opportune circumstance 
offered an immediate solution of the difficult problem. 
In the midst of a deep study of the relative positions 
of the two armies, and of the hopes and fears anima- 
ting both, a tall, lank, honest-faced Yankee, came to 
the door of the portico and asked '4f Miss Gay was 
in." 

I responded that I was she, and he handed me a 
letter addressed to myself. I hastily tore it open and 
read the contents. It was written by a reverend gen- 
tleman whose wife was a distant relative of my 
mother, and told that. she was very ill. ''Indeed,'* 
wrote he, "I have but little hope of ever seeing her 
any better, and I beg you to come to see her, and 
spend several days." 

I showed the letter to my mother, who was sitting 
near by, and, like myself , engaged in studyingthe sit- 
uation. She strenuously objected to my going, and 
advanced many good reasons for my not doing so ; 
but my reasons for going counteracted them all, in 
my estimation, and I determined to go. 

Taking Telitha with me, I carried the letter to the 
Provost Marshal, and asked him to read it and grant 
me the privilege of going. After reading the letter^ 
he asked me how I obtained it, and received my state- 



DURING THE WAR. 147 

ment. He then asked rae if I could refer him to the 
party who brought it to me. Leaving the letter with 
him, I ran home and soon returned with the desired 
individual who had fortunately lingered in the yard 
in anticipation of usefulness. Convinced that the in- 
vitation was genuine, and for a humane purpose, this 
usually morose marshal granted me '*a permit" to 
visit those poor old sick people, for the husband was 
almost as feeble as his wife. I told the obliging mar- 
shal that there was another favor I should Hke to 
ask of him, if he would not think me too presump- 
tuous. ^'Name it," he said. I replied : 

''Will you detail one or more of the soldiers to act 
as an escort for me ? I am afraid to go with only 
this girl." 

To this he also assented, and said it was a wise pre- 
caution. He asked when I wished to come home. 

"Day after to-morrow afternoon," I told him, and 
received assurance that an escort would be in wait- 
ing for me at that time. 

It now became necessary to make some important 
preparations for the trip. A great deal was involved, 
and if my plans were successful, important events 
might accrue, A nice white petticoat was called into 
requisition, and, when I got done with it, it was lit- 
erally lined with Northern newspapers. ''The Cincin- 
nati Enquirer," and "The New York Daily Times;" 
"The Cincinnati Commercial Gazette, "and "The Phil- 
adelphia Evening Ledger," under the manipulation 
of my fingers, took their places on the inner sides and 
rear of the skirt, and served as a very stylish 
^'bustle," an article much in vogue in those days. 



148 LIFJ;: IN DIXIE 

This preparatory work having been accompHshed, it 
required but a ifew moments to complete my toilet, 
and, under the auspices of a clear conscience, and a 
mother's blessing, doubtless, I started on a perilous 
trip. The ever-faithful Telitha was by my side, and 
the military escort a few feet in advance. 

After a walk of a mile and a half, I reached my 
destination for that day. I found the old lady in 
question much better than I had expected. Nervous 
and sick himself, her husband had greatly exag- 
gerated her afilictions. By degrees, and under pro- 
test, 1 communicated to these aged people my inten- 
tion of carrying information to Hood's headquar- 
ters, that might be of use to our army. I knew that 
these good old people would not betray me, even 
though they might not approve my course, and I con- 
iided to them my every plan. Both were troubled 
about the possible result if I should be detected ; but 
my plans were laid, and nothing could deter me from 
pursuing them. 

The rising sun of another day saw Telitha and me 
starting on our way to run the gauntlet, so to speak, 
of Federal bayonets. These good old people had 
given me much valuable information regarding the 
way to Atlanta— information which enabled me to 
get there without conflict with either Confederate or 
Federal pickets. Knowing the topography of the 
country, I took a circuitous route to an old mill; 
Cobb's, I believe, and from there I sought the Mc- 
Donough road. I didn't venture to keep that high- 
way to the city, but I kept within sight of it, and 
under cover of breast-works and other obstructions, 



DURING THE WAB. 149 

managed to evade videttes and pickets of both 
armies. After walkmg fourteen or fifteen miles, I 
entered Atlanta at the beautiful home of Mrs. L. P. 
Grant, near the southern boundary of the city. That 
estimable lady never lost an opportunity of doing 
good. The lessons of humanity and Christian grace 
impressed upon her youthful mind, and intensified by 
the life-long example of her devoted mother, Mrs. 
Ami Williams, of Decatur, had called into action all 
that is ennobling in woman. On this occasion, as 
upon every other offering an opportunity, she remem- 
bered to do good. She ordered an appetizing lunch, 
including a cup of sure enough coffee, which re- 
freshed and strengthened me after my long walk. 
Her butler having become a familiar personage on 
the streets of Atlanta, she sent him as a guide to im- 
portant places. We entered the cit}^ unchallenged, 
and moved about at will. The force of habit, prob- 
ably, led me to Mrs. McArthur's and to Mrs. Craig's 
on Pryor street ; and, by the way, these friends still 
own the same property, and occupy almost the same 
homes. The head of neither of these families was 
willing to accompany me to Confederate head- 
quarters, and with out a guide, I started to hunt them 
up myself. What had seemed an easy task, now 
seemed iuvsurmountable. I knew not in what direc- 
tion to go, and the few wh(5m I asked, seemed as 
ignorant as mj^self. Starting from Mrs. Craig's, I 
went towards the depot. I had not proceeded very 
far before I met Major John Y. Rankin. I could 
scarcely restrain tears of jo3^ He was a member of 
the very same command to which my brother be- 



150 LIFE IN DIXIE 

longed. From Major Rankin I learned that my 
brother, utterly prostrated, had been sent to a hos- 
pital, either in Augusta or Madison. He told me 
many other things of interest, which I cannot men- 
tion now, unless I was compiling a history instead of 
a series of personal reminiscences. Preferring not to 
stand upon the street, I asked Major Rankin to re- 
turn with me to Mrs. Craig's, which he did and spent 
an hour in pleasant conversation. Mrs. Craig was 
a delightful conversationalist, and while she was en- 
tertainmg the major with that fine art, I retired to 
a private apartment, and with the aid of a pair of 
scissors ripped off the papers from my underskirt and 
smoothed and folded them nicely, and after re-ar- 
ranging my toilet, took them into the parlor as a 
trophy of skill in outwitting the Yankees. Telitha, 
too, had a trophy to which she had clung ever since 
we left home, with the tenacity of an eel, and which 
doubtless she supposed to be an offering to "Marse 
Tom," and was evidently anxious that he should re- 
ceive it. Having dismissed Mrs. Grant's butler, as no 
longer necessary to my convenience. Major Rankin, 
myself, and Telitha, went direct to the headquarters 
of his command. The papers seemed to be most ac- 
ceptable, but I noticed that the gleanings from con- 
versation seemed far more so. The hopefulness and 
enthusiasm of our soldiers were inspiring. But alas ! 
how little they knew of the situation, and how de- 
termined not to be enlightened. Even then they be- 
lieved that they would hold Atlanta against Hercu- 
lean odds, and scorned the idea of its surrender. At 
length the opening of Telitha's package devolved on 



DURING THE WAR. 151 

me. Shirts, socks and soap; towels, gloves, etc., 
formed a compact bundle that my mother had sent 
to our soldiers. Many cheery words were said, and 
g-ood-byes uttered, and I left them to meet once 
more under very different circumstances. 

I now turned my thoughts to our negroes, who 
'were hired in different parts of the city. Rachel, the 
mother of King, hired herself and rented a room from 
Mr. John Silvey, who lived upon the same lot on Ma- 
rietta street, upon which he has since erected his pres- 
ent elegant residence. In order that I might have an 
interview with Rachel without disturbing Mr. Silvey 's 
family, I went to the side gate and called her. She an- 
swered and came immediately. I asked her if she real- 
ized the great danger to which she was continually 
exposed. Even then ''shot and shell" were falling in 
every direction, and the roaring of cannon was an 
unceasing sound. She replied that she knew the dan- 
ger, and thought 1 was doing wrong to be in Atlanta 
when I had a home to be at. I insisted that she had 
the same home, and a good vacant house was ready 
to receive her. But she ^was impervious to every argu- 
ment, and preferred to await the coming of Sherman 
in her present quarters. Seeing that I had no influ- 
ence over her, I bade her good-bye and left. Telitha 
and I had not gone farther than the First Presby- 
terian church (not a square away) from the gate 
upon which I had leaned during this interview with 
Rachel, before a bombshell fell by that gate and burst 
into a thousand fragments, literally tearing the gate 
into pieces. Had I remained there one minute longer, 
my mortal being v/ould have been torn to atoms. 



152 LIFE IN DIXIE 

After this fearfully impressive adventure, unforti- 
fied by an}' '^ permit" I struck a bee line to Mrs. 
Grant's, having promised her that I would go back 
that way and stop awhile. An old negro man, belong- 
ing to Mrs. Williams, who had ''come out" on a pre- 
vious occasion, was there, and wanted to return 
under my protection to his home within the enemy's 
lines. Very earnest assurances from Mrs. Grant to 
that effect convinced me that I had nothing to fear 
from betrayal by him, and I consented that he should 
be a member of my company homeward bound. Two 
large packages were read}- for the old man to take 
charge of, a bout which Mrs. Grant gave him directions, 
sotto voce. Putting one of them on the end of a walking 
cane he threw it over his right shoulder, and with his left 
hand picked up the other bundle. Telitha and I were 
unencumbered. With a good deal of trepidation I took 
the advance position in the line of march, and walked 
briskly. We had not proceeded very far before we en- 
countered our pickets. No argument was weighty 
enough to secure for me the privilege of passing the 
lines without an oflficial permit. Baffled in this effort^ 
I approved the action of the pickets, and we turned 
and retraced our steps in the direction of Atlanta, until 
entirely out of sight of them, and then we turned 
southward and then eastward, verging a little north- 
ward. Constant vigilance enabled me to evade the 
Yankee pickets, and constant walking brought me 
safely to the home of my aged and afflicted friends, 
from which I had started early in the morning of that 
day. Not being tired, I could have gone home; but 
the policy of carrying out the original programme is 



DUBING THE WAR. 153 

too apparent to need explanation. These friends 
were conservative in every act and word, and, it may 
be, leaned a little out of the perpendicular towards 
that ''flaunting lie," the United States flag; therefore 
they were favorites among the so-called defenders of 
the Union, and were kept supplied with many palata- 
ble articles of food that were entirely out of the 
reach of rebels who were avowed and ''dyed in the 
wool." 

A few minutes sufllced to furnish us ^vith a fine pot 
of soup (and good bread was not lacking), of which 
v^e ate heartily. The old negro man was too anx^ 
ious to get home to be willing to spend the night so 
near, just for the privilege of walking into Decatur 
under Yankee escort, and said he was "going home," 
and left me. 

The next day my escort was promptly on hand,, 
and in due time I was in Decatur, none the worse for 
having put into practice a favorite aphorism of the 
Yankees, that "all things are fair in war." 

The old man had preceded me, and faithful to the 
behest of Mrs. Grant, had turned over a valuable 
package to my mother. 

Not many mornings subsequent to the adventure 
just related, I discovered upon opening the door that 
the Yankee tents seemed to be vacant. Not a blue-coat 
was to be seen. What could it mean? Had they 
given up the contest and ignominiously fled? As if 
confirmatory of this gratifying suggestion, the 
booming of cannon in the direction of Atlanta wa& 
evidently decreasing. Then again I thought perhaps 
the wagon train had been sent out to forage upon 



154 LIFE IN DIXIE 

the country, and as it would now have to go forty- 
iive and fifty miles to get anything, it required an im- 
mense military escort to protect it from the dashing, 
sanguinary attacks of the ''rebels." The latter 
thought was soon dismissed and the former em- 
braced, and how consoling it was to me. Before the 
sun had attained its meridian height, a number of our 
scouts appeared on the abandoned grounds, and what 
joy their presence gave us ! But they left as sud- 
denly as they came, and on reflection we could not 
think of a single encouraging word uttered by them 
during their stay. Suspense became intolerable. With 
occasional hills, the roaring of cannon was a con- 
tinuous blending of ominous sound. 

In the midst of this awful suspense, an apparition, 
glorious and bright, appeared in our presence. It was 
my brother. He had left Madison a few days be- 
fore, where he had been allowed to spend a part of 
his furlough, instead of remaining at the Augusta 
hospital, and where he had received the tender minis- 
trations of his estimable cousin, Mrs. Tom Hillsman, 
and her pretty young daughters, and the loving care 
of his sister Missouri, who was also at this time an in- 
mate of her cousin's household. How I wished he 
could have remained there until restored to health. 
One less patrioric and conscientious would have 
done so. His mother's joy at meeting her beloved 
son, and under such circumstances, was pathetic in- 
deed, and I shall never forget the effort she made to 
repress the tears and steady the voice, as she sought 
to nerve him for the arduous and perilous duties be- 
fore him. Much of his conversation, though hurried. 



DURING THE WAB. 156 

was regarding his Mar3% in Texas, and the dear Httle 
boy dropped down from heaven, whom he had never 
seen. The shades of night came on, and darker grew 
until complete blackness enveloped the face of the 
earth, and still the low, subdued tones of conversa- 
tion between mother, son and daughter, mingled with 
unabated interest. Hark ! Hark ! An explosion ! 
An earthquake? The angry bellowing sound rises in 
deafening grandeur, and reverberates along the far- 
off valleys and distant hill-tops. What is it? This 
mighty thunder that never ceases? The earth is ablaze 
— what can it be? This illumination that reveals 
minutest objects? With blanched face and tearful 
eye, the soldier said : 

' ' Atlanta has surrendered to the enemy. The mighty 
reports are occasioned by the blowing up of the mag- 
azines and arsenals." 

Dumbfounded we stood, trying to realize the 
crushing fact. Woman's heart could bear no more 
in silence, and a wail over departed hopes mingled 
with the angry sounds without. 

Impelled by a stern resolve, and a spirit like to that 
of martyred saints, our brother said: 

''This is no place for me. I must go." 

And then he put an arm around each of us, and 
kissed us with a fervor of love that knew no bounds, 
and was quenching itself in unfathomable hopeless 
tenderness. The quiet fortitude and patriotism of 
his mother gave way in that dread hour, and she 
cried aloud in agonizing apprehension of never again 
clasping to her bosom her greatest earthly joy. No 
pen can describe the scene of that last parting be- 



156 LIFE IN DIXIE 

tween mother and son, and in sheer impotency I drop 
the curtain. 

As he walked away from his sobbing mother, 
through the w^ar-illnminated village, I never beheld 
mortal man so handsome, so heroically grand. His 
great tender heart, which I had seen heave and sway 
under less trying circumstances, seemed to have ossi- 
fied, and not an emotion was apparent. 



DURING THE WAR. 157 



CHAPTER XVIII. 
THE TEN DAYS' ARMISTICE. 

Going out with the Confederate clothes — Scenes at Atlanta, and 
at Lovejoy's Station — The visit to Granbury's Brigade — The 
last interview with Thomie. 

After every morsel of food had been taken from 
the people, and every vestige of nutrition extracted 
from the earth, the following order, in substance, v^as 
proclaimed throughout the land held by the right of 
conquest : 

''AH who cannot support themselves without ap- 
plying to the United States Commissary for assist- 
ance, must go outside of our lines, either north or 
south, within the period of time mentioned in this 
order, etc., etc." 

And by this order, and by others even more oppres- 
sive and diabolical, the Nero of the nineteenth century, 
alias William Tecum seh Sherman, was put upon rec- 
ord as the bom leader of the most ruthless, Godless 
band of men ever organized in the name of patri- 
otism—a band which, but for a few noble spirits, 
who, by the power of mind over matter, exerted a 
restraining influence, would not have left a South- 
erner to tell the tale of its fiendishness on its route 
to the sea. 

And now, like Bill Nye, after one of his sententious 
and doubtless truthful introductions to a Western 



158 LIFE IN DIXIE 

sketch, I feel easier in my mind, and will proceed with 
my reminiscences of that unholy period of this conn- 
try, and tell the truth about it, without favor or 
prejudice, if it kills me. After this pronunciamento 
had been issued, all was bustle and rapid movement 
in every household within the boundaries of usurpa- 
tion. Under the strong arm of military power, delay 
was not permitted. Homes were to be abandoned, 
and household goods and household gods to be left 
for the enemy, or destroyed; and liberty under our 
own vine and fig tree was to be a thing of the past, 
and dependence upon strangers a thing of the future. 
In preparation for this enforced change, much that 
should have been done was left undone, but there 
was no time to correct mistakes — the armistice was 
only for ten days. 

What were we to do, my mother and myself, was a 
question which presented itself with startling serious- 
ness, and had to be answered without delay. Our 
farm in Gordon county had already been devastated 
by the invading army, and every improvement de- 
stroyed, and if we should lose our home in Decatur 
we would be poor indeed. But what were we to do? 
If we left our home, we knew it would share the fate 
of all other ''abandoned" property, and furnish ma-^ 
terial for a bonfire for Nero to fiddle by ; and if we 
remained, by grace of better men than he, what assur- 
ance had we that-by any means within our grasp we 
could obtain even a scanty subsistence, or be pro- 
tected from personal abuse and insult by an alien 
army whose gentlemen were vastly in the minority. 



DURING THE WAU. 159' 

We learned that our neighbors and friends, Mrs. 
Ami WilHams and her estimable son, Mr. Frederick 
Williams, (an invalid from paralysis)— whose influ-^ 
ence over General Schofield prevented my banishment 
from Decatur the very first night of its occupancy by 
the Federal army— and the venerable Mr. and Mrs. 
Buchanan (the latter a Bostonian and educated iu 
Emerson's celebrated school for young ladies), and 
other families as true to the South as the needle to 
the pole, were going to remain and take their chances 
within the enemy's lines, and we determined to do so 
too. 

The officers in command of the post, especially the 
provost marshal, interrogated us very closely regard -^ 
ing our plans and expectations during the occupancy 
of the place by Federal forces. Having satisfied them 
that our only remaining servant would do washing 
and ironing at reasonable prices, and that we would 
do darning and repairing, we were given a written 
permit to remain within the lines. 

I, however, had a work to do, a feat to perform, 
which for audacity and courage, has seldom been 
surpassed, which would not admit of my staying at 
home until I had made a little trip to Dixie. 

Knowing the value of his influence, I again went 
to Mr. Frederick Williams, and confiding my plans 
to him, asked his assistance in getting permission to 
go out and return during the armistice. I never knew 
what argument he employed for the accomplishment 
of this object. I only knew by inference. But I re- 
ceived a letter from General Schofield, adjutant-gen- 
eral, of which the subjoined is an exact transcript : 



160 LIFE IN DIXIE 

"Decatur, Ga., Sept. 1, 1864. 
"Miss Gay — It was hard for me to reconcile my 
conscience to giving the enclosed recommendation to 
one whose sentiments I cannot approve, but if I have 
committed an error it has been on the side of mercy, 
and I hope I'll be forgiven. Hereafter I hope you 
v^ill not think of Yankees as all being bad, and be- 
yond the pale of redemption. 

"To-morrow I leave for my own home in the "frozen 
North," and when I return it will be to fight for my 
country, and against your friends, so that I suppose 
I shall not have the pleasure of again meeting you. 
Very respectfully, 

J. W. Campbell." 

And that Major Campbell's gallant act may be 
fully appreciated, I will add the letter which secured 
for me the great favor which Ihad the temerity to ask. 

" Headquarters, Army of the Ohio, 

Decatur, Ga., Sept. 14, 1864. 
"My Dear Colonel — I have the honor to introduce 
Miss Mary A. H. Gay, of this village, and I recom- 
mend her case to your favorable consideration. I do 
not know exactly what orders are now in force, but 
if you think you can grant her desires without detri- 
ment to the public service, I am confident the indul- 
gence will not be abused. 

Very respectfully your obedient servant, 

J. W. Campbell. 
"To Colonel J. C. Parkhurst, Pro. Mar. Gen., Army 
of the Cumberland." 



DURING THE WAB. 161 

Thus recommended by one high in army ranks, Col- 
onel Parkhurst granted me the privilege of going to 
see my y oung sister, then in Augusta, and carrying any- 
thing I might have saved from the ravages of the 
war, "unmolested." Fortified by these letters I went 
to the Provost Marshal in Decatur and told him I 
would be ready to go to Atlanta to-morrow morning 
at 8 o'clock, and I wanted to carry some old bed 
clothing and other things to my sister, and would be 
grateful for an ambulance, or an army wagon all to 
myself, and an Irish driver. He promised that both 
should be at my service at the time indicated — not, 
however, without the sarcastic remark that, ''if the 
Yankees had been as bad as I had said they were, 
they would not have left anything for me to carry." 

I ran to my mother and imparted to her the glad 
tidings of success, and in a whispered conversation 
^we soon had definite plans arranged for the consum- 
mation of the perilous duty before me. I v^ent to the 
Federal camp and asked for some crocus sacks such 
as are used in the transportation of grain, and quite 
a number were given to me. I shook them thoroughly 
inside and out, and put them by. A ball of twine and 
some large needles had found their way into the 
house. The needles were threaded and placed in con- 
venient proximity to the sacks. Telitha watched 
€very movement with interest and intuitively divined 
its import. The wardrobe was empty, and my very 
first touch moved it at least one inch in the desired 
direction, and a helping hand from her soon placed it 
in favorable position. This much being accomplished, 
I took a seat by my mother on the front doorsteps and 



162 LIFE IN DIXIE 

engaged in a pleasant conversation with a group 
of j^oiing Federal soldiers, who seemed much attached 
to us, and with whom I conversed with unreserved 
candor, and often expressed regret that the^^ were in 
hostile array towards a people who had been goaded 
to desperation by infringement upon constitutional 
rights by those who had pronounced the only ligament 
that bound the two sections of the countrj^ to- 
gether, ''a league with hell, and a covenant with the 
devil." This I proved to them by documents pub- 
lished at the North, and by many other things of 
which they were ignorant. 

While thus engaged. Captain Woodbury approached: 
and said : "I learn that you are going out into Dixie,. 
Miss Gay." 

''Yes, for a few days," I replied. 

"I am prepared to furnish a more pleasant convey- 
ance to Atlanta than the one you have secured," said 
he, and continued, "I have a handsome new buggy 
and a fine trotter, and it will take only a few minutes 
to reach there. Will you accept a seat with me?" 

If all the blood within me had overflowed its proper 
channels, and rushed to the surface, I could not have 
flushed more. I felt it in the commotion of my hair, 
and in the nervous twitching of my feet . The indig- 
nation and contempt that I felt for the man ! That 
one who was aiding and abetting in the devastation 
of my country and the spoliation of my home, should 
ask me to take a seat with him in a buggy which he 
doubtless had taken, without leave or license, from 
my countrymen, was presumptions indeed, and de- 
served a severe rebuke. But ''prudence being the bet^ 



DURING THE WAB. 163 

ter part of valor," I repressed all that would have 
been offensive in vv^ord and act, and replied with 
suavity, ''Thank you. Captain Woodbury, for the 
honor you would have conferred upon me, but I can- 
not accept it." Receiving no reply, I added : 

"Let me in candor make a statement to you, and I 
think you will approve the motive that prompts my 
decision. I have not sought to conceal the fact that 
my only brother is in the Confederate army ; he is 
there from motives purely patriotic, and not as a mer- 
cenary hireling. He is fighting for the rights guar- 
anteed by the Constitution of the United States, a 
constitution so sacred that our people have never vio- 
lated it in any particular, and of which we have 
shown our highest appreciation by adopting it ver- 
batim, as the guiding star of the Southern Confed- 
eracy. You are in an army claiming to be fighting for 
the Union, and yet, the government that sent you out 
on this glorious mission ignores every principle of 
fraternal relation between the North and the South, 
and would subvert every fundamental principle of 
self-government and establish upon the wreck a cen- 
tralized despotism. Could I, while you and I are so 
antagonistic, accept your offer and retain your good 
opinion? I think not, and I prefer to go in the convey- 
ance already stipulated." 

Silence without the slightest manifestation of an- 
ger, assured me that my argument against taking a 
buggy drive with him to Atlanta, had not been lost 
on Captain Woodbury, of Ohio, a member of Gar- 
rard's Cavalry. 



164 LIFE IN DIXIE 

After this episode we bade our callers ''good-eve- 
ing," went into the house and busied ourselves with 
the important work before us, a w^ork which prob- 
ably would not attract attention because of the 
darkness that ^vould surround the scene of its execu- 
tion. The table and chair had been placed, as once be- 
fore, by the wardrobe already mentioned, and a little 
respite was employed in viewing the situation. The 
door connecting our room and this dining-room was 
generally kept shut. At length night came on with 
its friendly, helpful darkness. The shutters of the win- 
dows had been closed for weeks, and secured by nails, 
and the house had been too often searched and plun- 
dered to be suspected of containing valuables. 
Therefore, we felt that if no unusual sound attracted 
notice we would accomplish our object unsuspected. 
But I was anxious and nervous in view of what was 
before me, and wanted the perilous work over with, 
f^o when the darkness of night fully enshrouded the 
earth, with no other light than that which found its 
way from the camp-fires of the enemy through the lat- 
ticed shutters, I stepped into the chair and thence up- 
on the table, and Telitha followed and drew the chair 
up after her. Then with her strong dusky hands she 
seized the wardrobe as if it had been a toy in her hands. 
I steadied the chair by the wardrobe and stepped 
into it, and another step landed me on top of the ward- 
robe. My fingers penetrated the crevice between the 
slats which I wanted to pull off, and to a slight effort 
they yielded. Lest the noise occasioned by dropping 
them might attract notice, I stooped and laid each 
piece down as I drew it off" the joist. When the aper- 



DURING THE WAR. 166 

ttire thus made ^was sufficient, I began to draw from 
their hiding place the precious Confederate overcoats 
and other winter apparel confided to my keeping (as 
already related), by soldiers of General Joseph E. 
Johnston's army, when they were atDalton. One by 
one each piece was taken out and dropped down upon 
the floor. But by a lamentable oversight we after- 
wards found that one article had been left — a woolen 
scarf for the neck knitted for my brother by his lov- 
ing young wife in Texas. 

Carefully I descended, and with the aid of the girl, 
placed the chair, the table, and the dear old wardrobe 
(which deserves to be immortalized in song and 
stor3-), in less suspicious positions, and then pro- 
ceeded to pack in the sacks, already mentioned, the 
precious articles. The thought occurred to me that 
my mother would like to have a hand in this labor of 
love, and I opened the door between us. I shall never 
forget her appearance as she stood as if riveted to 
thespot,near a window, watching the movingfigures 
without. I approached her and in a cheerful whisper 
told her that I was now putting the things in the 
sacks, and I knew she would like to have an interest 
in the job. She tried to respond, but she was too 
nervous to do so. Slowly but surelj^ she was yield- 
ing to the pressure upon nerve and brain. As each 
sack was filled, a threaded needle securely closed the 
mouth. In a short while a number of these sacks 
stood in a group, as erect as if on parade, and I verily 
believe that if the host of profane, godless braggarts 
(with but few exceptions), who surrounded the house, 
could have seen them at that time and known their 



166 LIFE IN DIXIE 

contents, they would have evacuated Decatur in mor- 
tal fear of the ghosts of ''Johnnie Rebs." 

This important work having been accomplished 
without discovery or even a shadow of suspicion, I 
felt vastly relieved, and thanked the Lord with all my 
heart for the health , strength , and ingenuity which 
had enabled me to consummate it. My mother and I 
lay down upon the same bed, and were soon blessed 
with the invigorating influence of "tired nature's 
sweet restorer." 

The song of the lark had ceased to be heard in this 
war-stricken locality ; chanticleer had long since fur- 
nished a savory meal for camp followers, and the 
time-pieces had either been spoiled or stolen; but 
there was a silent, unerring chronometer within that 
never deviated, and needed no alarm attachment to 
arouse me from slumber, and the dawn found me up 
and preparing for the duties and perhaps the dangers 
of the day. 

Telitha had become c[uite an attraction to a bevy 
of men who occupied soldiers' quarters, and wore sol- 
diers' uniforms, and drew pay for doing so, from 
Uncle Sam's coff'ers; and as she had been trained to 
ideas of virtue and morality she often came in frown- 
ing and much rufl[led in temper by their deportment 
towards her. Being almost entirely deaf and dumb, 
her limited vocabulary was inadequate to supply epi- 
thets expressive of the righteous indignation and con- 
tempt which she evidently felt — she could only say, 
''Devil Yank, devil," and these words she used with 
telling effect both to the amusement and chagrin of 
the Yankees. This state of affairs convinced me that 



DURING THE WAE. 167 

for her protection she would have to be kept within 
doors, and I therefore assumed the task of drawing 
the water, and a few other jobs indispensable even 
in life's rudest state. On this occasion, when 
I went to the well for a bucket of water, before 
preparing our frugal breakfast, I was asked by early 
marauders w^hy I did not let "that young colored 
lady draw the v^ater." I candidly answered them, 
and told them I was going to ask the officers of the 
encampment to protect her while I v^as gone, 
and I also would ask them to report any misde- 
meanor toward her, that they might witness, at 
headquarters. 

After a good night's rest, my mother's nerves 
seemed all right again, and by 7 o'clock we had 
finished our breakfast, which consisted of bread and 
butter and coffee — the latter luxurious beverage being 
furnished by one whose heart v^as in touch with 
liumanity. That the aperture in the ceiling of the 
dining room might not be discovered until I got the 
contraband goods out of the house, I had brought 
the sacks containing them into the adjoining room, 
and it w^as therefore the work of a very few minutes 
to convey them to the wagon, when that vehicle, 
drawn by a span of fine horses, under the guidance of 
the Irish driver, drove up to the front door. "Put 
those sacks into the v^agon," I said, pointing to 
them . When the last one of them w^as stored away 
safely in that moving repository, one of those feel- 
ings of relief and securit\^ came over me that had 
more than once given me courage to brave success- 
fully impending danger — and I donned my hat, and 



168 LIFE IN DIXIE 

bade my mother and the faithful girl an almost cheer- 
ful ''Good-bye," and took my seat by the driver, en 
route for Dixie. Would I get there? Ah ! that was 
the question that had blanched my mother's cheek, 
and deprived her of the power of articulation when I 
said "Good-bye." But hope, etc., ''eternal in the 
human breast," whispered "yes," and thus encour- 
aged, I spoke grateful words to the Irish driver, 
and asked him many questions about the land of the 
shamrock and sunny blue skies. He was evidently 
flattered by my favorable knowledge of the Emerald 
Isle, and would have done anything within his power 
for me. God bless the Irish forever ! 

I asked him to drive under my direction to the resi-^ 
dence of my estimable friends, Mr. and Mrs. Posey 
Maddox, the parents of the accomplished and 
erudite, Charles K. Maddox of Atlanta. To my 
great joy I sav^ v^agons in the yard, already laden 
with their household goods, to be carried to the 
depot and turned over to the Federal authorities, 
who assumed the transportation of them to Jones- 
boro and the safe delivery of them to the Confederate 
authorities, who in turn assumed the transportation 
and delivery of them to the nearest Confederate sta- 
tion. Mr. Maddox had secured the use of an entire 
freight car, and gladly consented to take me and my 
baggage in w^ith theirs. Mrs. Maddox was particu- 
larly glad to have me go with them, and to her I 
confided the character of my baggage, and received 
in return many words of sympathy and approba- 
tion. Those who have studied mythical lore, and 
dwelt in imagination upon the attributes of mythi- 



DURING THE WAR. 169 

cal characters, especially those of an evil nature, can 
perhaps form some idea of the confusion and dis- 
quiet of an entire city yielding its possession to an 
alien army, which now, that success had been 
achieved by brute force, was bent upon the utter 
impoverishment of the people, and their extreme 
humiliation. Curses and imprecations too vile to 
repeat, and boisterous laughter, and vulgar jests 
resounded through the streets of Atlanta. Federal 
wagons followed in the tracks of Confederate 
w^agons, and after a few light articles v^^ere placed in 
the latter for Southern destination, the former 
unblushingly moved up to receive pianos and other 
expensive furniture which found its way into every 
section of the North. And this highway robbery 
was permitted by William Tecumseh Sherman, the 
Grand Mogul of the Army of the RepubHc. Truly 
had the city of Atlanta been turned into a veritable 
pandemonium. 

At length our time came to move in the worse than 
death-like processions going southward, and in a 
short while we were at Jonesboro, our destination, 
so far as Federal aid extended. As soon as I stepped 
from the car I wended my way to the Confederate 
officer of the day, whom I recognized by his regalia, 
and told him of my success in concealing and bring- 
ing out of Federal lines the winter clothing of our 
soldiers. He listened with polite attention and 
said it was a wonderfully interesting story, but 
altogether improbable. 

''Go with me and I will prove to you the truthful- 
ness of it," I eagerly said. 



170 LIFE IN DIXIE 

As it was a bleak equinoctial day, and drizzling rain, 
Mr. and Mrs. Maddox had not yet left their car (by 
wayof parenthesis,! would say that the favors shown 
to these excellent people was in consideration of Mr. 
Maddox being a very prudent minister of the gospel), 
and, when we reached it, I asked Mr. Maddox to roll 
one of my sacks to the door. He did so, and I then 
asked the officer to examine its contents. A blade of a 
pen-knife severed the twine with which the edges of 
the mouth had been sewed together, and the loved, 
familiar gray and brass buttons, and other articles, 
verified the truth of my statement. He looked 
amazed, and exhausted his vocabulary of flattering 
encomiums upon me, and, what was more desirable 
and to the point, he asked what he could do in the 
matter, and assured me that there was nothing 
v^ithin the range of his jurisdiction that he would 
not do. I told him that the object of my coming 
to him was to ask that he send me and my precious 
charge to General Granbury's headquarters, as, among 
other overcoats, I had one of his in charge, as w^ell as 
many other things belonging to his staff officers. He 
told me the finest span of Confederate horses and the 
best ambulance on the ground should be at my ser- 
vice as soon as possible. 

During the interim, I opened wide m^- eyes and took 
in the situation in all its horrible details. The entire 
Southern population of Atlanta, ^th but an occa- 
sional exception, and that of many miles in its vicin- 
ity, were dumped out upon the cold ground without 
shelter and without any of the comforts of home, 
and an autumnal mist or drizzle slowly but surel^^ 



DURING THE WAB. 171 

saturating every article of clothing upon them ; and 
pulmonary diseases in all stages admonishing them 
of the danger of such exposure. Aged grandmothers 
tottering upon the verge of the grave, and tender 
maidens in the first bloom of young womanhood, 
and little babes not three days old in the arms of sick 
mothers, driven from their homes, were all out upon 
the cold charity of the world. 

Apropos, I will relate an incident that came under 
my observation during my brief stay at this station : 
When one of the long trains from Atlanta rolled in 
with its living freight and stopped at the terminus, a 
queenl}^ girl, tall and lithe in figure and willowy in 
motion, emerged from one of the cars, and stood, the 
embodiment of feminine grace, for a moment upon 
the platform. In less time than it takes to chronicle 
the impression, her Grecian beauty, classic expression 
and nobility of manner, had daguerreotyped them- 
selves upon the tablets of m^^ memory, never to be 
effaced by mortal alchemy. The pretty plain debeige 
dress, trimmed with Confederate buttons and corres- 
ponding* ribbon, all conspired to make her appear 
even to a casual observer, just what she was — a 
typical Southern girl who gloried in that honor. 
She stood only a moment, and then, as if moved 
by some divine inspiration, she stepped from the car, 
and falling upon her knees, bent forward and 
kissed the ground. This silent demonstration of 
affection for the land of Dixie touched a vibrating 
chord, and a score or more of beautiful girlish voices 
blended in sweetest harmony while they told in song 
their love for Dixie. I listened spellbound, and 



VI2 LIFE IN DIXIE 

was not the only one thus enchanted. A United 
States officer listened and was touched to tears. 
Approaching me, he asked if I would do him the 
favor to tell him the name of the young lady who 
kissed the ground. 

''I do not think she would approve of my telling 
you her name, and I decline to do so," I said in reply. 
Not in the least daunted by this rebuff he responded: 

''I shall learn it; and if she has not already become 
the wife or the affianced of another, I shall offer her 
the devotion of my life." 

The Confederate officer of the day, God forever 
bless hitn ! came for me. The army ^wagon was 
ready and standing by Mr. Posey Maddox's car, 
waiting to receive its precious freight, and a few 
minutes, sufficient to transfer it from car to wagon, 
and, after waiting to see the last sack securel3' placed 
in the wagon, I too, got in, and took my seat by 
the driver. A long cold drive was before us, but I 
was so robust I had no fear of the result. 

The driver was a veritable young Jehu, and we got 
over the ground rapidly ; but, owing to a mistake in 
following directions, it was a long time before we 
reached our destination, the course of which must 
have been due west from Jonesboro, and through a 
dense forest. And oh, the beauty of that forest! 
It will remain a living, vivid memory, as long as life 
endures. Its rich, varied and heavy foliage had been 
but lightly tinged by the frosts of autumn, and itw^as 
rendered more beautiful by the constant dripping of 
rain drops from every leaf and blossom. As the 
evening came on, dense, impenetrable clouds canopied 



DUBING THE WAB. 173 

the earth, and shut out every ray of sunlight, and 
almost every ray of hope. At length night came on, 
dark and weird, and silent, and we were still in the 
woods without compass or star. 

Just as my brave heart was about to succumb to 
despair, a vision of delight burst upon me — a beacon 
light, yea, hundreds of beacon lights, appeared before 
me, and filled my soul with joy. The camp-fires of 
General Cleburne's brave men beckoned us onward, 
and gave us friendly greeting. Every revolution of 
the wagon wheels brought us perceptibly nearer the 
haven of rest. Sabbath-like quiet reigned through- 
out the encampment. No boisterous sounds nor 
profane imprecations broke the stillness. But there 
was a sound that reached my ear, filling my soul 
with joy unspeakable. A human voice it was. I had 
heard it before in the slight wail of infancy ; in the 
merry prattle of childhood ; in the melodious songs 
of youth; in the tender, well -modulated tones of 
manhood — and now; there was no mistaking it — 
in the solemn, earnest invocation to the Lord of 
Hosts, for the salvation of the world, for the mil- 
lenial dawn, and that "peace on earth, and good 
will to men," which would never again be broken by 
the clarion of war, or earth's rude alarms. No 
sweeter voice ever entered the courts of Heaven. 

My obliging young driver stopped the horses at a 
favorable distance, and I heard the greater part of 
that grand prayer, and wept for joy. When it was 
finished, we moved on, and were hailed by a sentinel 
who demanded the countersign, I believe it is called. 
The driver satisfied him, and calling to a soldier, I 



174 LIFE IN DIXIE 

asked him if he knew Lieutenant Stokes. ''Like a 
book," he answered. "Please tell him his sister Mary 
is here," I said. In a moment I was clasped in his 
arms with the holy pressure of a brother's love. His 
first thought on seeing me was that some calamity 
must have occurred, and he said, ''Sister, is Ma or 
Missouri dead?" "No, Thomie, but Toby is." 

His brave head bowed low and he ^wept — sobbed 
audibly. I told him of Toby's loving mention of 
him, and of the boy's hope of Heaven. After his 
natural paroxysm of grief had subsided, he looked 
up, and with an ineffable smile, said : 

"Sister, 1 know you have a secret to tell — what is 
it?" 

"It is this; I have saved all those precious things 
that were sent to me from Dalton, and I have 
brought them to deliver to their rightful owners. 
Help me to do so as quickly as possible, that I may 
go back to J onesboro to-night." 

Had a bombshell exploded at his feet, the effect 
could not have been more electrical. He bounded to 
General Granbury's tent with the agility of a deer; 
he told the news to him and the others assembled 
there; and he came back, and they all came with 
him; and had I been a magician, I could not have 
been an object of greater interest. General Granbury 
protested against my return to Jonesboro through 
the darknessof the night, and offered his tent for 
my occupancy, saying he would go in with some of 
the other officers. Colonel Robert Young, a friend of 
years' standing, was also earnest in his efforts to 
keep me from carrying out my purpose to go back^ 



BUBING THE WAB. 175 

and I gave it up. I knew that I was with friends, 
and permitted myself to be Hfted out of the wagon 
and conducted to the General's tent. I took a seat 
upon a camp stool which was placed for me about 
the centre of the tent. The General and his staff 
officers sat around, and my dear brother was very 
near me. Thus arranged, a conversation was com- 
menced which continued with slight interruptions 
into the 'Svee sma' hours" of the night. Colonel 
Young seemed to have something upon his mind which 
rendered him indifferent to society, or some duty to 
perform which required his attention outside the 
tent. At length, however, he came to the door, and 
asked my brother to come out awhile. In a short 
time both of them came in together, and Colonel 
Young, after asking us to excuse the interruption of 
the conversation, remarked that there was something 
outside that he would like for us to see. My brother 
took me by the hand and led me out in front of the 
tent, and all the officers stood in a group around. 
Imagine my surprise when I perceived a long line of 
soldiers before us, and an officer on horseback gal- 
loping from one end of the line to the other. I ven- 
tured to ask my brother if they w^ere going to have a 
moonlight drill without the moon? He smiled, and a 
faint pressure of the hand indicated that there was 
something on the tapis that would please me, but I 
must wait until it was revealed to others as well. 
In much less time than it has taken to record this 
episode a signal was given, and one of the grandest 
cheers ever heard by mortal man resounded through 
the midnight darkness, and the dense forest, and was 



176 LIFE IN DIXIE 

echoed over hill and dale. Another signal and another 
cheer, and yet another of each, and I broke down com- 
pletely, and cried heartily. What^had I done that my 
name should thus be honored by men enduring all the 
hardships of warfare, and fighting for my principles ; 
and yet to me it was the most acceptable compliment 
ever paid to living woman. I often fancy I hear those 
voices now blending in one grand harmonious shout 
of praise to the great God of Heaven and earth, who 
has doubtless given rest to many of those weary 
ones. 

Once more in General Granbury's tent, at the 
earnest solicitation of all present, I continued the 
rehearsal of all the Federal army news that I had 
gleaned from close perusal of the United States news- 
papers and from careless and unsuspicious talkers. 
General Granbury was evidently startled when I 
told him that I had heard Federal officers say ''Hood 
was working to their hand precisely in going back to 
Tennessee, as Thomas was there with an army that 
was invincible, and would whip him so bad, that 
there would not be a Johnnie Reb left to tell the 
tale;" and they criticised severely the ''generalship" 
of giving an invading army unobstructed route to 
the goal of their ambition, ^vhich, in this case, was 
South Carolina. I was asked by one of my auditors 
to give my impression of the situation, and I did so. 
As I described the magnitude of the Federal army, 
and its vindictive spirit as I had seen it, and its 
implacable feeling towards the South, I saw a shade 
of sadness pass over the noble faces of all present. 
"Have you lost hope of the ultimate success of our 



DURING THE WAR. 177 

cause?" was a question 1 was compelled to answer, 
because anxiously asked. I, however, imitated a 
Yankee by asking a question in reply, as to what our 
resources were, and if they were deemed adequate 
to cope with a foe which had the world to drav^ 
from, both for men and means? "But have you lost 
hope?" was the question I vyras called upon to answer 
without equivocation. 

Silence and tears which would v^ell up, were inter- 
preted to mean w^hat my tongue refused to speak. 
My brother perceiving this, put his hand on mine as 
it lay hopelessly upon my lap, and said, "Cheer up, 
sister mine; if you could have seen 'Old Pat's' men 
on drill this afternoon, you v^ould think we are some 
ourselves." 

Colonel Young continued to seem very much 
engaged outside, and, since the demonstration in my 
honor, had given us only an occasional glimpse of 
himself. At length he came to the door and said, 
"Lieutenant, I should like to speak to you." M^^ 
brother responded to the call, and soon returned and 
said: "As there is a hard day's march before us for 
to-morrow, we must let the General get a little sleep 
and this brave sister of mine must need it, too. 
Come, let me conduct you to your room." 

Good-byes v^ere spoken that night which, in the 
providence of God, were destined never to be 
repeated, and Thomie and Colonel Young led 
the way to a bran new tent, never used be- 
fore, and opened the door that I might enter. 
Thomie said, "My room is next to yours, sister. 



178 LJFE IN DIXIE 

Pleasant dreams, and refreshing slumbers," and he 
kissed me good night. "Good-night, dear brother." 
''Good-night, dear friend," said I, as he and Colonel 
Young left the tent. By the dim light I surveyed the 
''room" and its furnishings, and wept to think that 
dear Confederate soldiers had deprived themselves of 
comforts that I might be comfortable. A handsome 
buffalo robe lay on the ground; and a coat nicely 
folded for a pillow, and a gray blanket for a cover, 
invited me to repose. A small pan of water for morn- 
ing ablution, and a towel, and a mirror about the 
size of a silver dollar, and a comb and brush, furnished 
every needed convenience. I removed the skirt of my 
dress that it might not be wrinkled in the morning, 
and my mantle for the same cause, and lay down and 
slept, oh, how sweetly, under the protecting care of 
those noble men, until awakened by the sweet famil- 
iar voice of my brother, saying, "Get up, sister, or 
you will not be ready for the roll call," was his never- 
to-be-forgotten morning salutation. "As a short 
horse is soon curried," it required only a few 
moments to make myself presentable, and just as I 
was about announcing myself in that condition, 
I'homie again appeared at the door with a plate 
containing my breakfast in one hand, and a tin cup 
containing a decoction, which he called coffee, in the 
other. "Here is your breakfast, sister;" and he 
added, "the ambulance is waiting to carry you to 
Lovejoy's station. Lieutenant Jewell and mj^self 
have been detailed to accompany you there," 

The army wagons were already falling in line one 
after another and moving onward in a north westerly 



BURIN G THE WAR. 179 

direction ; and what remained of the infantry and 
cavalry of that once magnificent army, which so 
often had achieved victory under General Joseph E. 
Johnston, had made their last grand bivouac on 
Georgia soil, and were moving onward in the line of 
march to Tennessee, under the command of Hood. 
They were leaving many a gallant comrade who had 
Htten the dust and drenched the soil of Georgia 
^with their life-blood, and although they must have 
feared that the flag they loved so well was now^ 
leading them to defeat, j'^et not one of those true 
hearts would have deserted it for the wealth of 
India. As they marched in a diiferent direction from 
that I was going to take, and the demand for rapid 
movement was imperative, I could not follow them 
long with my eye,btitgthe memory of the little I saw 
vsrill ever be fresh, and, like an inspiration, yet, to me, 
their burnished bayonets glittered in a perfect halo 
of glory, for the mists and clouds of the preceding 
day had passed away during the night, and a blue 
sky and bright sun gladdened the earth. 

The two young lieutenants took seats opposite to 
in me the ambulance. Thus arranged, I caught every 
movement and look of that dear brother from whom 
I was so soon to part. He never looked more hand- 
some, or appeared to greater advantage. I was his 
guest, and he entertained me with a ''feast of reason 
and a flow of soul." At my request he sang some 
of the songs of ''auld lang syne," but he preferred to 
talk of our mother and our sister. He recalled inci- 
dents of his childhood, and laughed heartily over 



180 LIFE IN DIXIE 

some of them. He spoke of his Mary in Texas and 
his love for her, and he took from his vest pocket 
the impression of the foot and hand of his only 
child, a dear little boy whom he had never seen, and 
kissed them, then folded them carefully and put 
them back in his pocket, and said: 

''1 must hurry back to Texas." 

But back of all this glee and apparent hopefulness 
I saw, in characters unmistakable, that he was 
almost bereft of hope, and sustained only by 
Christian resignation. 

We knew, by the immense crowd of people standing 
and sitting around on improvised seats, that we were 
approaching the station. The two soldiers got out 
of the ambulance with the elasticity of youth and 
health, and Thomie assisted me out. I stood for a 
moment, as if uncertain where to go, and Lieuten- 
ant Jewell grasped my hand and said : 

Good bye, dear Miss Mary !" and stepped back into 
the wagon and resumed his seat. 

Seeing a large, square old house, which appeared 
to be full of people, Thomie and I advanced toward 
it a few steps. Suddenly, as if admonished that a 
soldier's duties should have precedence over everything 
else, he took me in his arms and kissed me fervently 
once, twice, thrice. I understood for whom they were 
intended— that trio of kisses. Not a word did he 
speak, and when he turned his back upon me I saw 
him brush off the silent tears, and more than one 
step was uneven before his nerves became steady and 
he ready to report for duty. I felt intuitively that I 



DURING THE WAR. 181 

should never look upon his face again, and I watched 
him with riveted eyes until I could no longer see him, 
and then I gazed upon the vehicle containing him un- 
til it, too, disappeared forever from my sight. Then, 
and not till then, I gave way to pent-up sorrow, and 
cried as one without hope — unreservedly. 



182 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER XIX. 

THE RETURN HOME. 



From Jonesboro via Augusta — Scenes and Incidents by the way 
— The lonely journey from Stone Mountain to Decatur. 

Dazed by a full realization that my brother and 
every male relative and friend were in the octopus 
arms of war, cruel and relentless,! stood riveted to 
the spot where my brother had parted from me, until 
a gentle hand touched my shoulder, and a pleasant 
voice gave me friendly greeting. Turning I saw Mrs. 
Anderson, sister of the brave and gallant Robert Al- 
ston, whose tragic fate is known to every reader in 
this country. 

*'I am glad to see you. I have just seen your 
brother Robert,"! said. 

''Where? Where? Do tell me that ! may go to 
him !" cried his devoted sister, laughing and weeping 
alternately. 

Having ascertained that the long train of exiles 
would not leave the station for several hours, ! 
offered to conduct this tender-hearted woman to the 
camp-fire of her brother. The route took me over the 
same ground which only a few moments ago ! had 
traveled with my own dear brother; and along which 
! had seen so vividly a lean, gaunt, phantom hand 
pointing at his retreating form. Even the horses' 
tracks and the ruts made by the wheels could be 
plainly traced by their freshness and the yet quiver- 



DURING THE WAR. 183 

ing sands ; and as I gazed upon them, I fancied they 
were connecting links between me and him which 
were binding our souls together, and which I would 
never grow ^veary in following. These reflections 
were often disturbed by questions about "my dear 
brother Robert," and by alternate sobs and laughter. 
The distance seemed much greater, now that I was 
walking it, but at length we attained our destina- 
tion, the headquarters of a few of General John 
Morgan's gallant defenders of Southern homes and 
firesides. It would require the descriptive powers of 
a Sims or a Paul Hayne to give an adequate idea of 
the meeting on this occasion of this demonstrative 
brother and sister. I will not undertake to do so. 
He, too, was ready to move in that disastrous cam- 
paign, which lost to us the creme de la cretne of the 
Army of the Tennessee, and which aided, as if planned 
by the most astute Federal tactician, Sherman, in his 
''march to the sea." 

During the interview between Colonel Alston and 
his sister, it developed to him that his pretty home 
had been abandoned to the tender mercies of the 
enemy by the family in whose care he had left it, and 
that the Yankees had shipped his wife's elegant Eu- 
ropean piano, mirrors and furniture, as well as his 
library, cut glass and Dresden china to the North ; 
and, besides, in the very malignity of envy and sec- 
tional hate, had mutilated and desecrated his house 
in a shameful manner. His imprecations were fear- 
ful; and his vows to get even with the accursed 
Yankees were even more so. The lamb of a few mo^ 
ments ago was transformed into a lion, roaring and 



184 LIFE IN DIXIE 

fierce. He accompanied his sister and myself on onr 
return to the station; and ncYcr will I forget that 
walk. 

The station reached, the scene of separation of 
brother and sister was again enacted, and he, too, 
^went to battle-fields, sanguinary and relentless, she 
to peaceful retreats undisturbed by cannon's roar. 

Here, as at Jonesboro, the face of the earth was lit- 
erally covered with rude tents and side-tracked cars, 
which were occupied by exiles from home — defense- 
less women and children, and an occasional old man 
tottering on the verge of the grave, awaiting their 
turn to be transported by over-taxed railroads 
farther into the constantly diminishing land of their 
love. During the afternoon I boarded an already well- 
filled southern-bound train, and moved about among 
its occupants as if at home. For were we not one 
people, the mothers, wives and sisters of Confed- 
erates? The diversity of mind, disposition, and temper 
of this long train of representative women and chil- 
dren of Atlanta, and of many miles contiguous, who 
were carrying minds and hearts brimful of memo- 
ries never to be obliterated, but rather to harden into 
asphalt preservation,was illustrated in various waj^s. 
Some laughed and talked and jested, and infused 
the light and warmth of their own sunny natures 
into others less hopeful ; some v^ere morose and 
churlish, and saw no hope in the future and were im- 
patient with those who did see the silver lining be- 
yond the dark clouds suspended over us; and some 
very plainly indicated that if our cause failed, they 
would lose all faith in a prayer-answering God; 



DURING THE WAB. 185 

and others saw wisdom and goodness in all His ways 
and dispensations, and were willing to submit to 
any chastisement if it only brought them nearer to 
the Mercy Seat. 

After many delays and adventures, not of 
sufficient importance to relate, I reached Gris- 
^woldville. Here I was received with open arms by 
that good old father and mother, in Israel, Rev. Dr. 
John S. Wilson and his wife, and his excellent 
family, v^hom I found residing in an old freight car. 
But they were living in a palace compared to many 
of their neighbors and friends, who had scarcely a 
shelter to protect them from the inclemency of the 
weather. Every moment of time with these good 
people was spent in answering questions, and receiv- 
ing blessings. Not long after this pleasant meeting, 
Stoneman's raiders came into Griswoldville, and the 
household effects of Dr. Wilson's family v^ere con- 
sumed by devouring torches. All their winter cloth- 
ing, the doctor's library, and his manuscript sermons, 
were burned to ashes. These sermons were the re- 
sult of the study and experience of forty years. But 
this grand old soldier of the cross, although on the 
verge of threescore years and ten, faltered not; for 
his eye v^as fixed on the goal of his heavenly inherit- 
ance. Wherever he went, he still preached ; and died 
a few years afterwards at his post in Atlanta, hav- 
ing missed but two preaching appointments in all his 
ministry, one of these on the Sabbath before he died. 

By a circuitous route, which I can now scarcely 
recall, in the course of time I reached Augusta, 
the beautiful. I wended my way through the 



186 LIFE IN DIXIE 

croTvded thoroughfares to the residence of friends on 
Green street, where my sister had sojourned for 
several weeks, far from the distracting confusion of 
v^rarfare. After all these long and varied years, 
I never see that Ely si an street without feeling as 
if I would like to kneel and kiss the ground whereon 
she found surcease of hostile tread and rancorous 
foe. 

1 could scarcety approach the house, in exterior 
beautiful in all that makes a home attractive. I 
feared that within sorrowful tidings might await 
me. No word of the absent sister had come through 
the enemy's lines since they were first established, 
and now I dreaded to hear. More than once I stood 
still and tried to nerve myself for the worst tidings 
that could be communicated. And then I ascended 
the stone steps and rang the door-bell. When the but- 
ler came, I hurriedly asked if Miss Stokes was in. As 
if apprehending my state of feelings, he answered 
with a broad African grin : ''She is, ma'am." 

The pressure of a mountain was removed from my 
heart, and with a lighter step than I had taken for 
some time, I entered that friendly portal, a welcome 
guest. A moment sufficed for him to carry the joyous 
tidings of my presence to my sister, and, as if by magic , 
she was with me. O, the joy and the sadness of our 
meeting ! To say that each of us was glad beyond 
our ability to express it, would be a tame statement ; 
and yet neither of us was happy. There was 
too much sadness connected with ourselves and 
our country to admit of happiness; yet the re- 
port of our mother's fortitude and usuallv good 



DURING THE WAR. 187 

health, and the hopeful spirit of our brother, 
and his numerous messages of love and playful 
phraseology, cheered my sister so much that she 
rallied and did all she could to render my brief 
stay with her as pleasant as possible. And there 
was a charm in her sweet voice and pleasant words 
that were soothing to me, and did much to assuage 
my own grief. Nor were our good friends wanting 
in efforts of like character. They, too, had drank 
deep of Marah's bitter waters. Two noble boys, 
yet in their teens, had been laid upon the sacrificial 
altar, an oblatiow to their country. And a fair young 
girl had gone down into the tomb as much a sacrifice 
to Southern rights as if slain on the battle-field. One 
other girl and her w^ar-stricken parents survived ^ 
and they were devoting their lives to the encourage- 
ment of those similarly bereaved. 

Although I knew it would pain her greatly, I thought 
it would be wrong to leave without telling my sister 
about Toby's death, and, therefore, I told her. Like 
our brother, she wept, but not as one without hope. 
She had been his spiritual instructor, and thoroughly 
taught him the great and yet easy plan of salvation ; 
and I have never doubted that he caught on to it, and 
was supported by the arm of Jesus, as he ''passed 
through the dark valley and the shadow of death." 

The time for leaving this peaceful retreat came, and 
was inexorable; nor would I have stayed, if I could. 
There was a widowed mother, whose head was 
whitened, not so much by the frost of winters as by 
sorrow and care, grief and bereavement, awaiting 
my coming — oh, so anxiously ! Waiting to hear from 



188 LIFE IN DIXIE 

the soldier son, who, even for her sake, and that of 
his gentle young wife and baby boy in Texas, would 
listen to no plan of escape from the dangers in- 
volved by his first presidential vote. Waiting to 
hear from the fair young daughter, whom she pre- 
ferred to banish from home rather than have her 
exposed to the rude chances of war. That she might 
not be kept in painful suspense, I determined not to 
linger on the way. I, therefore, took the morning train 
on the good old reliable Georgia Railroad for Social 
Circle. The parting from my sister pained me ex- 
ceedingly ; but I knew she had put her trust in the 
IvOrd, and He would take care of her. It may be asked 
why I did not have the same faith regarding the pre- 
servation of my brother. He, too, was a Christian. 
*' He that taketh the sword shall perish by the sword," 
is a divine assertion, and it was constantly repeating 
itself in my ears; yea, I had heard him repeat it with 
emphasis. 

The trip from Augusta to Social Circle was replete 
with melancholy interest, and differed very materi- 
ally from the trip from Atlanta to Jonesboro. Here 
those who had the courage to do so were returning to 
their homes, and were on the qui vive for every item 
of news obtainable from within the enemy's lines; 
but nothing satisfactory encouraged their hope of 
better treatment. One marked difference appeared in 
the character of those who were venturing home- 
ward. There were scarcely any young persons — not 
a single young lady. The good old mother railroad 
was very deliberate in her movements, and gave her 
patrons time to get acquainted and chat a little on 
the way, and this we did without restraint. 



DURING THE WAR. 18^ 

We discussed the situation, and narrated our diver- 
sified experiences, and this interchange of thought 
and feehng brought us very near together, and made 
us wondrous kind to one another. At one of the 
stations at which the train stopped, and had to wait 
a long while, I saw several of the young soldiers from 
Decatur. Among them was Ryland Holmes, and, I 
think, Mose Browm. 

About a dozen ladies v^ere going within the enemy's 
lines and would there separate for their respective 
homes. We agreed to hire a wagon team and driver 
at Social Circle, that we might take it ^'turn about" 
in riding to Stone Mountain. As I was the only 
one going beyond that point, I determined to take 
my chance from there for getting to Decatur, and go 
on foot if need be. Our plan was successful, as, 
after much effort we obtained an old rickety wagon, 
which had doubtless done good service in its day, 
and a yoke of mis-mated oxen, and a negro driver. 
For this equipage we paid an enormous sum, and, 
thinking we ought to have the full benefit of it, we 
all got into the wagon to take a ride. Compassion 
for the oxen, how^ever, caused first one and then 
another to descend to the ground, and march in the di- 
rection of home, sometimes tw^o abreast and 
sometimes in single file. Night overtook us at a house 
only a short distance from the Circle, and in a body 
we appealed for shelter beneath its roof. The man 
of the family was at home, under what circumstances 
I have never heard, and to him we appealed, and 
from him we received an ungracious ''permit" to 
stay in his house. Seeing no in viting propects f or rest 



190 LIFE IN DIXIE 

and repose, I established myself in a corner and 
took out of my reticule some nice German wool 
that had been given to me by my friends in Augusta, 
and cast on the stitches for a throat-warmer, or, in 
the parlance of that day, ''a comforter." Mine host 
watched the process with much interest. When the 
pattern developed, he admired it, and expressed a 
wish to have one like it. Glad of the privilege to 
liquidate my indebtedness for the prospective night's 
shelter, I told him if he would furnish the material I 
would knit him one just like it. The material seemed 
to be in waiting, and was brought forward, soft, 
pretty lambs' wool thread, and I put it in my already 
well-filled hand satchel to await future manipulation. 
The accommodation in the way of bedding was in- 
adequate, and more than one of our party passed a 
sleepless night ; but what mattered it? Were we not 
Confederate soldiers, or very near akin to them? 

As the first sunbeams were darting about among the 
tree-tops, I donned my bonnet and bade adieu to our 
entertainers, and started on my journey homeward, 
walking. Being in the very vigor of v^oinanhood, 
and in perfect health, I never experienced the sensa- 
tion of fatigue, and I verily believe I could have 
walked to my desolated home sooner than the most 
of the resources within our means could have carried 
me; and I was impatient under the restraint and 
hindrance of slow teams. Hence my start in ad- 
vance of the other ladies. And I wanted to be alone. 
The pent-up tears were constantly oozing out of my 
eyes and trickling down my face, and I wanted to 
open the flood-gates and let them flow unrestrainedly. 



DURING THE }VAB. 191 

I wanted to cry aloud like a baby. I plunged into the 
^^oods, for the seldom traveled road was scarcely a 
barrier to perfect solitude. I walked rapidly, and 
closed my eyes to all the attractions of nature lest 
they divert my mind, and appease my hungry heart. 
I wanted to cry, and was even then doing so, before I 
got ready for it. At length I came to a rivulet of cr3^s- 
tal water, as pure as the dew drops of Arcadia. I sat 
down beside it and mingled the anguished tears of my 
very soul, v^ith its sparkling, ever-changing, nectar- 
ian waters. I bathed my hot face and hands in the pel- 
lucid stream, and still the lachrymal fountain flowed 
on. I thought of my lonely mother, surrounded by 
those who were seeking the subversion of all that her 
heart held dear, and I cried. I thought of my brother 
— of his toilsome marches and weary limbs, and of his 
consecrated life — and I cried. I thought of the fair 
young sister, still hopeful in early womanhood, and 
I refused to be comforted, and wept bitterly. In this 
disconsolate frame of mind, I was ready to give up 
all hope and yield to direful despair. At this fearful 
crisis a still, small voice whispered, ''Peace, be still!" 
The glamour of love invested sky and earth with 
supernal glory. The fountain of tears ceased to flov^, 
and I looked around upon the handiwork of the Great 
Supreme Being in whose creation I was but an atom, 
and wondered that He should have been mindful of me 
— that He should have given surcease of agony to my 
sorrowing soul. All nature changed as if by magic, 
and the witchery of the scene was indescribable. The 
pretty wildwood flowers, as I bent my admiring gaze 
upon them, seemed to say in beautiful silent language. 



192 LIFE IN DIXIE 

''Look aloft." The birds, as they trilled their morn- 
ing roundelay, said in musical numbers, "Look 
aloft;" and the merry little rivulet at my feet affected 
seriousness, and whispered, ''Look aloft." Thus ad- 
monished, "in that moment of darkness, with scarce 
hope in my heart," I looked aloft— looked aloft. 

By and by the ladies came in sight, some walking and 
others riding in the wagon ; and I pitied most those 
who were in the wagon. As soon as the3^ were within 
speaking distance, one of the ladies said: "You should 
have stayed for breakfast. It was quite appetizing." 
Reminded of what I had lost, I was led to com- 
pare it with what I had gained, and I would not have 
exchanged loss and gain for anything in the world. 
I had to admit, however, that there was a vacuum 
that needed replenishing ; but I was inured to hunger^ 
and, save a passing thought, I banished all desire for 
food, and thought only of the loved ones, so near, 
and yet so far, and in spite of myself the fountain 
of tears was again running over. 

The long tramp to Stone Mountainwas very lonely. 
Not a living thing overtook or passed us, and we 
soon crossed over the line and entered a war-stricken 
section of country where stood chimneys only, where 
lately were pretty homes and prosperity, now de- 
parted. Ah, those chimneys standing amid smolder- 
ing ruins! No wonder they were called "Sherman's 
sentinels" as they seemed to be keeping guard over 
those scenes of desolation. The very birds of the air 
and beasts of the field had fled to other sections. By 
constant and unflagging locomotion w^e reached 
Stone Mountain sometime during the night. We 



DURING THE WAR. 193 

^went to the hotel and asked shelter and protection , 
and received both, but not where to lay our heads, 
as those who had preceded us had filled every avail- 
able place. I had friends in the village, but I had no 
assurance that they had remained at home, and 
v^eathered the cyclone of war. Therefore, early in the 
morning, hungry and footsore, I started all alone 
v^alking to Decatur. The solitude was terrific, and 
the feeling of awe was so intense that I was startled 
by the breaking of a twig, or the gruesome sound of 
my own footsteps. Constantly reminded by ruined 
homes, I realized that I was indeed within the arbi- 
trary lines of a cruel, merciless foe, and but for my 
lonely mother, anxiously awaiting my return, I should 
have turned and run for dear life until again within 
the boundaries of Dixie. 

I must have walked very rapidly, for, before I 
was aware of it, I found myself approaching Judge 
Bryce's once beautiful but now dilapidated home. 
He and his good wife gave me affectionate greeting 
and something to inflate a certain vacuum which had 
become painfully clamarous. And they also gave me 
that w^hich v^as even more acceptable — a large yam 
potato, and apiece of sausage, to take to my mother. 

I begged Judge Bryce to go with me at least part 
of the way to Decatur; but he^was afraid to leave his 
wife. His experience with the Yankees had not been 
an exceptional case. They had robbed him of every- 
thing of value, silver, gold, etc., and what they could 
not carry a^vay, they had destroyed, and he denied 
most emphatically that there vyras a single gentle- 
man in the Federal army. In vain did I tell him that 



194 LIFE IN DIXIE 

we owed the preservation of our lives to the protec- 
tion extended to us by the few gentlemen who were 
in it. 

After a brief rest, I resumed my way homeward, 
and oh, with what heart-sickening forebodings I ap- 
proached that sacred though desolate abode ! A non the 
little town appeared in the distance, and upon its very 
limits I met several of Col. Garrard's cavalry officers. 
Among them a diversity of temper was displayed. 
Some of them appeared very glad to see me, and, to 
anxious inquiries regarding my mother, they 
replied that they had taken good care of her in 
my absence, and that I ought to have rewarded them 
for having done so by bringing "my prettj' young 
sister" home with me. Although I did not entertain 
one iota of respect for the Federal army as a whole, 
I knew there were a few in its ranks who were incapa- 
ble of the miserable conduct of the majority, and 
my heart went out in very tender gratitude to them, 
especially to those who had sought to lessen the an- 
guish of my mother. These men threw the reins into 
the hands of out-riders, and got off their horses and 
walked with me to the door of my home. Their 
headquarters were still in the yard and had been 
ever since first established there, with the exception 
of a very few days. My return was truly a memora- 
ble occasion. Manifestations assured me that the 
highest as v^ell as the low^est in that command was 
glad to see me, and in their hearts welcomed me home. 
To good Mr. Fred Williams I was indebted, in a 
large measure, for kindly feeling and uniform respect 



DURING THE WAR. 195 

from that portion of the Federal army with which I 
came in contact. 

My mother had seen me coming and had retreated 
into as secluded a place as she could find, to compose 
herself for the meeting; but the effort was in vain. 
She trembled like an aspen leaf, her lips quivered and 
her tongue could not articulate the words she would 
have spoken. Alas ! the tension was more than she 
could bear. I dwelt upon the fact that Thomie and 
Missouri were well and had sent her a world of love. 
I tried to infuse hope and cheerfulness into everything 
I told her, but she could not see it, and her poor over- 
taxed heart could bear up no longer, and she cried as 
Rachel weeping for her children, long and pite- 
ously. No purer tears were ever borne by heaven - 
commissioned Peri into the presence of a compas- 
sionate Savior, than those shed by that patriotic 
though sorrowing mother. 



196 LIFE IN DIXIE 

CHAPTER XX. 

ON THE VERGE OF STARVATION. 

A worn-out army horse is found — Uncle Mack makes a wagon — 
I make a unique trip — Starvation is warded off — Dangers and 
scenes by the way. 

"What is it, Ma ? Has anything happened?" 
"No, only Maggie Benedict has been here crying as 
if her heart would break, and saying that her chil- 
dren are begging for bread, and she has none to give 
them. Give me a little of the meal or hominy that 
you have, that we may not starve until we can get 
something else to eat, and then take the remainder to 
her that she may cook it as quickly as possible for 
her suffering children." 

We had spent the preceding day in picking out 
grains of corn from cracks and crevices in bureau 
drawers, and other improvised troughs for Federal 
horses, as well as gathering up what was scattered 
upon the ground. In this way by diligent and persever- 
ing work, about ahalf bushel was obtained from the 
now deserted camping ground of Garrard's cavalry, 
and this corn was thoroughly washed and dried, 
and carried by me and Telitha to a poor little mill 
(which had escaped conflagration, because too hum- 
ble to attract attention) , and ground into coarse meal. 
Returning from this mill, and carrying, myself, a 
portion of the meal, I saw in the distance my mother 



DURING THE WAR. 197 

coming to meet me. Apprehensive of evil, I ran to 
meet her and asked : 
"What is it, Ma? Has anj^thing happeneid?" 
With flushed f . ce and tear-toned voice she repHed 
as already stated. Mj^ heart was touched and a 
division was soon made. Before starting on this er- 
rand, I thought of the probable delay that inexperi- 
ence and perhaps the want of cooking utensils and fuel 
might occasion, and suggested that it wo\dd hasten 
the lelief to the children to cook some bread and mush 
and carry it to them already for use . A boiling pot, 
left on the camping ground, was soon on the fire ready 
to receive the well-prepared batter, which was to be 
converted into nutritious mush or porridge. Nor was 
the bread forgotten. While the mush was cooking the 
hoe-cakes v^ere baking in good old plantation style. 
These ^^ere arranged one upon another, and tied up 
in a snow-white cloth ; and a tin bucket, also a trophy 
from the company, was filled with hot mush. I took 
the bread, andTelitha the bucket, and walked rapidly 
to Doctor Holmes' residence, where Maggie Benedict, 
whose husband w^as away in the Confederate army, 
had rooms for herself and her children. The Rev." 
Doctor and his wife had refugeed, leaving this young 
mother and her children alone and unprotected. 

The scene which I witnessed will never be oblit- 
erated from my memory. On the doorsteps sat the 
young mother, beautiful in desolation, with a baby 
in her arms, and on either side of her a little one, pite- 
ously crying for something to eat. ''Oh, mama, I 
want something to eat, so bad." ''Oh, mama, I am 
so hungry — give me something to eat." Thusthechil- 



198 LIFE IN DIXIE 

dren were begging for what the mother had not to 
give. She could only give them soothing words. But 
relief was at hand. Have you ever enjoyed the satis- 
faction of appeasing the h unger of children who had 
been without food until the on verge of starvation? 
If not, one of the keenest enjoyments of life has been 
denied you. O, the thankfulness of such a privilege! 
And oh, the joy, melancholy though it be, of hearing 
blessings invoked upon you and yours by the mother 
of those children ! 

While this needful food was being eaten with a zest 
known only to the hungry, I was taking in the sit- 
uation, and devising in my own mind means by which 
to render more enduring relief. The meal we had on 
hand would soon be exhausted, and, though more 
might be procured in the same way, it would be 
hazardous to depend upon that way only. "God 
helps those who help themselves," is a good old re- 
liable proverb that cannot be too deeply impressed 
upon the mind of every child. To leave this young 
mother in a state of absolute helplessness, and her in- 
nocent little ones dependent upon the precarious sup- 
^port which might be gleaned from a devastated coun- 
try would be cruel indeed ; but how to obviate this 
state of aif airs was a serious question. 

The railroad having been torn up in every direc- 
tion communicating with Decatur, there seemed to 
be but one alternative — to walk — and that was not 
practicable with several small children. 

''Maggie, this state of aif airs cannot be kept up; 
have you no friend to whom you can go?" 



DUBING THE WAR. 199 



■ii 



Yes," she replied, "Mr. Benedict has a sister near 
Madison, who has wanted me and the children to go 
and stay with her ever since he has been in the army, 
but I was too independent to do it." 

''Absurd! Well, the time has come that you must 
go. Get the children ready, and I wall call for you 
soon," and writhout any positive or defined plan 
of procedure, I took leave of Maggie and her chil- 
dren. I was working by faith, and the Lord di- 
rected my footsteps. On my way home I hunted up 
^'Uncle Mack," a faithful old negro man, who pre- 
ferred freedom in the midst of privation with his 
ow^n w^hite people, to following the Federal army 
around on "Uncle Sam's" pay-roll, and got from 
him a promise that he would construct a wagon out 
of the odds and ends left upon the streets of Decatur. 
The next thing to be done was to provide a horse, and 
not being a magician, nor possessed of Aladdin's 
lamp, this undertaking must have seemed chimerical 
to those who had not knowm how^ often and how 
singularly these scarcely formulated plans had devel- 
oped into success. This day had been one of constant 
and active service, and was only one of many that 
furnished from sixteen to eighteen working hours. No 
wronder, then, that exhausted nature succumbed to 
sleep that knew no waking until the dawn of an- 
other day. 

Next morning, before the sun rose, accompanied 
by the Morton girls, I was on my way to "the cane- 
brakes." I had seen many horses, whose places had 
been taken by others captured from farmers, aban- 
doned and sent out to the cane-brake to recuperate 
or to die, the latter being the more probable. With- 



200 LIFE IN DIXIE 

out any definite knowledge of the locality, but guided 
by an over-ruling providence, I went direct to the 
cane-brake,and there soon made a selection of a horse, 
which, from the assortment at hand, could not have 
been improved upon. By a dexterous throw of a lasso, 
constructed and managed by the young friends al- 
ready mentioned, he was soon captured and on 
his way to Decatur to enter ''rebel" service. His 
most conspicuous feature was a pair of as 
fine eyes as ever illuminated a horse's head, 
large, brown and lustrous. There were other 
conspicuous things about him, too; for instance, 
branded upon each of his sides were the tell-tale 
letters, "U. S.," and on his back was an immense 
sore which also told tales. By twelve o'clock, noon. 
Uncle Mack appeared upon the scene, pulling some- 
thing which he had improvised which baffled descrip- 
tion, and which, for the sake of the faithful service 
I obtained from it, I will not attempt to describe, 
though it might provoke the risibilities of the readers. 
Suffice it to say that as it carried living freight in 
safety over many a bridge, in honor of this I will call 
it a wagon. Uncle Mack soon had the horse secured 
to this vehicle by ropes and pieces of crocus sack, 
for harness was as scarce a commodity as wagons 
and horses. I surveyed the equipage from center to 
circumference, with emotions pathetic and amusing. 
It was awfully suggestive. And as I viewed it in all 
its grotesquenessmy imagination pictured a collapse, 
and my return home from no very distant point 
upon my all-fours, with one of the fours dragging 
after me in a dilapidated condition. I distinctly 



DURING THE WAR. 201 

heard the derisive gibberish and laughter of old Mo- 
rtius, and thought I should explode in the effort to 
keep from joining in his mirth fulness. As I turned 
my head to take a sl3r glance at my mother, our eyes 
met, and all restraint was removed. With both of us 
laughter and sobs contended for the mastery, and 
merriment and tears literally blended. Thus equipped, 
and ^th a benediction from my mother, expressed 
more by looks and acts than by words, I gathered 
the ropes and started like Bayard Taylor to take 
''Views Afoot," and at the same time accomplish an 
errand of mercy v^hich ^v^ould lead me, as I led the 
horse, over a portion of country that in dreariness 
and utter desolation baffles description — enough to 
know that Sherman's foraging trains had been over it. 
Leading the horse, which ^was already christened 
''Yankee," to Dr. Holmes' door, I called Maggie to 
come on with her children. 

"I can't bring my things out. Miss Mary. Sjme- 
body must come to carry them and put them in the 
wagon." 

"I can," I said, and suiting the action to the v-^ord, 
ran into the house, where to my amazement three 
large trunks confronted me. V/hatwas to bedone? If 
they could be got into the wagon, what guarantee 
was there that poor Yankee could haul them in that 
tumblesome vehicle ? However, I went for Uncle 
Mack to put the trunks in the wagon, and in front of 
them, in close proximity to the horse's heels was 
placed a chair in v/hich Maggie seated herself and 
took her baby in her lap, the other children nestling 
on rugs at her feet. 



202 LIFE IN DIXIE 

Poor Yankee seemed to feel the importance of his 
mission, and jogged along at a pretty fair speed, 
and I, who walked by his side and held the ropes, 
found myself more than once obliged to strike a trot 
in order to maintain control of him. Paradoxical 
as it may seem, I enjoyed this new phase in my ser 
vice to the Confederacy — none but a patriot could 
render it, and the whole thing seemed invested with 
the glamour of romance, the sequel of which would be 
redemption from all connection with a people 
who could thus afflict another people of equal rights. 
While Maggie hummed a sweet little lullaby to her 
children, I contemplated the devastation and ruin on 
every side. Not a vestige of anything remained to 
mark the sites of the pretty homes which had dotted 
this fair country before the destroyer came, except, per- 
haps, a standing chimney now and then. And all 
this struck me as the willing sacrifice of a peerless 
people for a great principle, and looking through the 
dark vista I sav^ light ahead — I saw v^hite-robed 
peace proclaiming that the end of carnage had come. 
Even then, as I joggled along, at a snail's pace (for 
be it known Yankee w^as not uniform in his gait, 
and as his mistress had relaxed the tension of the 
ropes, he had relaxed the speed of his steps), up a 
pretty little hill from v^hose summit I had often 
gazed with rapturous admiration upon the beautiful 
mountain of granite near by, I had so completely 
materialized the Queen of Peace that I saw her on 
the mountain's crest, scattering with lavish hand, 
blessings and treasures as a recompense for the de- 
struction so wantonly inflicted. Thus my hopeful 



DURING THE WAR, 203 

temperament furnished consolation to me, even 
under darkest circumstances. 

Maggie and the children became restive in their 
pent-up limits, and the latter clamored for something 
to eat, but there was nothing to give them. Night 
was upon us, and we had come only about eight 
miles, and not an animate thing had we seen since 
we left Decatur, not even a bird, and the silence was 
unbroken save by the sound of the horse's feet as he 
trod upon the rocks, and the soft, sweet humming of 
the young mother to her dear little ones. Step by 
step we seemed to descend into the caverns of dark- 
ness and my brave heart began to falter. The 
children, awe-struck, had ceased their appeal for 
bread, and nestled closer to their mother, and that 
they might all the more feel her protecting presence, 
she kept up a constant crooning sound, pathetic 
and sad. Step by step we penetrated the black- 
ness of night— a night without a moon, starless 
and murky. The unerring instinct of an animal was 
all we had to guide us in the beaten road, which 
had ceased to be visible to human ken. 

A faint glimmer of light, at apparently no very 
great distance, gave hope that our day's journey was 
almost ended. Yankee also caught the inspiration 
and walked a little faster. Though the time seemed 
long, the cabin, for such it proved to be, was finalh- 
reached, and I dropped the ropes, and, guided by the 
glimmer of light through the cracks, went to the door 
and knocked, at the same time announcing my name. 
The door was quickly opened. Imagine my surprise 
when recognized and cordially welcomed by a sweet 



204 LIFE IN DIXIE 

friend, whose most humble plantation cabin was 
a pretty residence in comparison with the one she \ 
now occupied. Maggie, too, as the daughter of a 
T^ell-known physician, received cordial welcome for 
herself and children. And thus a kind Providence 
provided a safe lodging place for the night. 

Nature again asserted itself, and the children asked 
for something to eat. The good lady of the house 
kissed them, and told them that supper would soon 
be ready. The larger one of her little sons drew from 
a bed of ashes, which had been covered by glowing 
coals, some large yam potatoes whch he took to a 
table and peeled. He then went outside the cabin 
and drew from a keg an earthen -ware pitcher full of 
sparkling persimmon beer, which he dispensed to us 
in cups, and then handed around the potatoes. And 
how much this repast was enjoyed! Good sweet 
yams thoroughly cooked, and the zestful persimmon 
beer ! And I th ought of the lonely mother at a des- 
olated home, whose only supper had been made of 
coarse meal, ground from corn which her own hands 
helped to pick from crevices and cracks in i mpro- 
vised troughs, ^where Garrard's cavalry had fed their 
horses. After awhile the sweet womanly spirit that 
presided over this little group, got a quilt and a shawl 
or two, and made a pallet for the children. The boys 
put more wood upon the fire, and some in the jambs of 
the fireplace, to be used during the night ; and then 
they went behind us and lay down upon the floor, 
with seed cotton for pillows, and the roof for cover- 
ing. Our kind hostess placed additional wraps over 



DURING THE WAR. 205 

the shoulders of Maggie and myself, and we three sat 
up in our chairs and slept until the dawn. 

Accustomed to looking after outdoor interests, I 
went to see how Yankee was coming on, and found 
him none the worse for the preceding day's toil. 
Everything indicated that he had fared as sumptu- 
ously as we had— a partly-eaten pumpkin, corn, whole 
ears yet in the trough, and fodder near by, plainly 
showed the generosity of the noble little family that 
took us in and gave us the best they had. After break- 
fast we bade adieu to the good mother and her chil- 
dren, and went on our way, if not rejoicing, at least 
feeling better for having seen and been with such 
good people. There was a strong tie between us all. 
The husband and father was off in the army, like 
our loved ones. The generous feeding given to our 
steed had so braced him up that he began to walk 
faster, and was keenly appreciative of every kind 
Tvord ; and I and he formed a friendship for each 
other that continued to his djnng day. The road was 
very rough and hilly, and more than once he showed 
signs of fatigue; but a word of encouragement 
seemed to renew his strength, and he walked bravely 
on. Maggie v/ould perhaps, have lightened his load 
by w^alking, now and then, but the jolting of the 
wagon kept the trunks in perpetual motion, and the 
lives of the children would thereby have been jeopard- 
ized. 

Nothing of special interest transpired this sec- 
ond day of our journey. The same fiend of destruc- 
tion had laid his ruthless hand upon everything within 
his reach. The v^oods had been robbed of their beauty 



206 LIFE IN DIXIE 

and the fields of their products ; not even a bird was 
left to sing a requiem over the scene of desolation, or 
an animal to suggest where once had been a habita- 
tion. Once, crouching near a standing chimney, there 
Avas a solitary dog who kept at bay every attempt 
to approach — no kind word would conciliate or put 
him oif his guard. Poor, lonely sentinel! Did he 
remember that around the once cheerful hearthstone 
he had been admitted to a place with the family group? 
Was he awaiting his master's return? Ah, who can 
know the emotions, or the dim reasonings of that 
faithful brute? 

Night again came on and I discovered that v^e were 
approaching the hospitable mansion of Mr. Mont- 
gomery, an excellent, courtly country gentleman, ^who 
\sras at home under circumstances not now remem- 
bered. He and his interesting family gladly welcomed 
me and my little charge and entertained us most hos- 
pitably. The raiders had been here and helped them- 
selves bountifully, but they had spared the house for 
another time, and that other time came soon, and 
nothing was left on the site of this beautiful home 
but ubiquitous chimneys. 

An early start the next day enabled Yankee to carry 
Maggie and her children and the trunks to Social Cir- 
cle in time to take the noon train for Madison. So 
far as Maggie and her children were concerned I now 
felt that I had done all that I could, and that I 
must hasten back to my lonely mother at Decatur ; 
but Maggie's tearful entreaties not to be left among 
strangers prevailed w^ith me, and I got aboard the 
train with her, and never left her until I had placed 



DURING THE WAR. 207 

her and her children in the care of good Mr. Thrasher 
at Madison, to be conveyed by him to the home of 
Mrs. Reeves, her husband's sister. 

In Madison, I too, had dear friends and relatives, 
v^ith ^'hom I spent the night, and the morning' strain 
bore me back to Social Circle, then the terminus of 
the Georgia Railroad — the war fiend having destroyed 
every rail between there and Atlanta. Arriving there^ 
imagine my surprise and indignation when I learned 

that Mr. R , ^whom 1 had paid in advance to care 

for Yankee while I was gone to Madison, had sent him 
out to his sorghum mill and put him to grinding cane ; 
and it ^was v^ith much difficulty and delay that I got 
him in time to start on my homeward journey that 
afternoon. Instead of his being rested, he v^as 
literally broken dov^n, and my pity for him con- 
strained me to w^alk every step of the way back to 
Decatur. While waiting for the horse I purchased 
such articles of food as I could find. For instance, a 
sack of flour, for which I paid a hundred dollars ; a 
bushel of potatoes ; several gallons of sorghum ; a few 
pounds of butter, and a few pounds of meat. Even 
this was a heavy load for the poor jaded horse. 
Starting so late I could only get to the hospitable 
home of Mr. Crew, distant only about three miles 
from ''The Circle." 

Before leaving Mr, Cre^^^'s, the next morning, I 
learned that an immense Yankee raid had come out 
from Atlanta, and had burned the bridge which I had 
crossed only t^wo days ago. This information caused 
me to take another route to Decatur, and my heart 
lost much of its hope, and my step its alacrity. Yet the 



208 LIFE IN DIXIE 

Lord sustained me in the discharge of duty. I never 
^wavered when there ^was a principle to be guarded, 
or a duty to be performed. Those were praying days 
with me, and now I fervently invoked God's aid and 
protection in my perilous undertaking, and I believed 
that He would grant aid and protection. 

That I might give much needed encouragement to 
Yankee, I walked by his side with my hand upon his 
shoulder much of the time, an act of endearment 
^vhich he greatly appreciated, and proved that he did 
so by the expression of his large browm eyes. One 
of my idi osyncrasies through life has been that of 
counting everything, and as I journeyed homeward, I 
found myself counting my steps from one to a thou- 
sand and one. As there is luck in odd numbers, says 
Rory O'Moore, I always ended with the traditional 
odd number, and by telling Yankee how much nearer 
home we were. And I told him many things, among 
them, sotto voce, that I did not believe he was a Yan- 
kee, but a captured rebel. If a tuft of grass appeared 
on the road side, he was permitted to crop it ; or if a 
muscadine vine with its tempting grapes was discov- 
ered, he cropped the leaves off the low shrubbery, 
while I gathered the grapes for my mother at home 
with nothing to eat save the one article of diet, of 
w^hich I have told before. 

A minute description of this portion of the war- 
stricken country w^ould fill a volume; but only the 
leading incidents and events of the journe^^ are admis- 
sible in a reminiscence of v^ar times. In the early part 
of the day, during this solitary drive, I came to a cot- 
tage by the wayside that was a perfect gem — an 



DURING THE WAR. 209 

oasis, an everything that could thrill the heart by its 
loveliness. Flowers of every hue beautified the 
grounds and sweetened the air, and peace and plenty 
seemed to hold undisputed sway. The Fiend of De- 
struction had not yet reached this little Eden. Two 
gentlemen were in the yard conversing. I perceived at 
a glance that they were of the clerical order, and 
would fain have spoken to them; but not wishing 
to disttirb them, or attract attention to myself, I was 
passing by as unobtrusively as possible, v\rhen I 
v^as espied and recognized by one of them, who proved 
to be that saintly man. Rev. Waiter Branham. He 
introduced me to his friend. Professor Shaw of Oxford. 
Their sympathy for me was plainly expressed, and 
they gave me much needed instruction regarding the 
route, and suggested that I would about get to Rev. 
Henry Clark's to put up for the night. With a hearty 
shakeof the hand, and ''God bless you, noble woman," 
I pursued my lonel^^ way and they went theirs. No 
other adventure enlivened the day, and poor patient 
Yankee did the best he could, and so did I. It was ob- 
vious that he had done about all he could. Grinding 
sorghum under a hard taskmaster, vsrith an empty 
stomach, had told on him, and he could no longer 
quicken his pace at the sound of a friendly voice. 

At length ^we came in sight of ''Uncle Henry Clark's" 
place. I stood amazed, bewildered. I felt as if I would 
sink to the ground, yea, through it. I was riveted to 
the spot on which I stood. I could not move. At 
length I cried — cried like a woman in despair. Poor 
Yankee must have cried too (for water ran out of his 
eyes), and in some measure I was quieted, for misery 



210 LIFE IN DIXIE 

loYes company, and I began to take in the situation 
more calmly. Elegant rosewood and mahogany furni- 
ture, broken into a thousand fragments, covered the 
face of the ground as far as I could I see ; and china 
and glass looked as if it had been sown. And the 
house, what of that? Alas ! it too had been scat- 
tered to the four winds of heaven in the form of 
smoke and ashes. Not even a chimney stood to mark 
its site. Near by stood a row of negro cabins, intact, 
showing that while the conflagration was going on 
they had been sedulously guarded. And these cabins 
^were occupied by the slaves of the plantation. Men, 
women and children stalked about in restless uncer- 
tainty, and in surly indifference. They had been led 
to believe that the country would be apportioned to 
them, but they had sense enough to know that such a 
mighty revolution involved trouble and delay, and 
they were supinely waiting developments. Neither 
man, woman nor child approached me. There was 
mutual distrust and mutual avoidance. 

It took less time to take in this situation than it has 
to describe it. The sun was almost down, and as 
he turned his large red face upon me, I fancied he 
fain would have stopped in his course to see me out of 
this dilemma. What was I to do? The next nearest 
place that I could remember that would perhaps give 
protection for the night, was Mr. Fowler's, and this 
was my only hope. With one hand upon Yankee's, 
shoulder, and the ropes in the other, I moved on, and 
not until my expiring breath will I forget the plead- 
ing look which that poor dumb animal turned upon 
me when I started. Utterly helpless, and in my 



DURING THE WAB. 211 

hands, he wondered how I could thus exact more of 
him. I wondered myself. But what was I to do but 
to move on? And with continuous supplication for 
the Lord to have mercy upon me, I moved on. More 
than once the poor horse turned that look, beseech- 
ing and pathetic, upon me. It frightened me. I did 
not understand it, and still moved on. At last the 
hope of making himself understood forsook him, 
and he deliberately laid himself down in the road. I 
knelt by his side and told him the true state of 
affairs, and implored him not to desert me in this 
terrible crisis. I told him how cruel it would be to 
do so, and used many arguments of like charac- 
ter ; but they availed nothing. He did not move, and 
his large, lustrous brown eyes seemed to say for him : 
"I have done all I can, and can do no more." Aad 
the sun could bear it no longer, and hid his crimson 
face behind a great black cloud. 

What could I do but rise from my imploring atti- 
tude and face my perilous situation? "Lord, have 
mercy upon me," was my oft-repeated invocation. 
The first thing which greeted my vision when I rose 
to my feet was a very distant but evidently an ad- 
vancing object. I watched it with bated breath, and 
soon had the satisfaction of seeing a man on mule- 
back. I ran to meet him, saying: ''O, sir, I know 
the good Lord has sent you here." And then I re- 
counted my trouble, and received most cordial sym- 
pathy from one who had been a Confederate soldier, 
but who was now at home in consequence of Avounds 
that incapacitated him for further service. When he 
heard all, he said : 



212 LIFE IN DIXIE 

"I would take you home with me, but I have 
to cross a swimming creek before getting there, 
and I am afraid to undertake to carry you. Wait 
here until I see these negroes. They are a good set, 
and whatever they promise, they will, I think, carry 
out faithfully." 

The time seemed interminable before he came back, 
and night, black night, had set in ; and yet a quiet 
resignation sustained me. 

When my benefactor returned, two negro men came 
with him,;oneof whom brought a lantern, bright and 
cheery. ''I have arranged for you to be cared for here,'' 
said he. ''Several of the old house servants of Mrs. 
Clark know you, and they will prove themselves 
worthy of the trust we repose in them." I accepted 
the arrangement made by this good man, and en- 
trusted myself to the care of the negroes for the 
night. This I did with great trepidation, but as soon 
as I entered the cabin an assurance of safety filled my 
mind with peace, and reconciled me to my surround- 
ings. The "mammy" that presided over it', met me 
with a cordial welcome and assured me that no trouble 
would befall me under her roof. An easy chair was 
placed for me in one corner in comfortable proximity 
to a large plantation fire. In a few minutes the men 
camein bringing myflour, potatoes, syrup, bacon, etc. 
This sight gave me real satisfaction, as I thought of 
my poor patient mother at home and hoped that in 
some way I should yet be able to convey to her this 
much needed freight. I soon espied a table on 
which was piled many books and magazines; "Uncle 
Henry Clark's" theological books were well repre- 



DURING THE WAR. 213 

sented. I proposed reading to the women, if they 
would Hke to hear me, and soon had their undivided 
attention, as well as that of several of the men, who 
sat on the doorsteps. In this way several hours 
passed, and then "mammy" said, "You must be get- 
ting sleepy." "Oh, no," I replied, "I frequently sit up 
all night reading." But this did not satisfy her; she 
had devised in her own mind something more hos- 
pitable for her guest, and she v^anted to see it car- 
ried out. Calling into requisition the assistance of 
the men, she had two large cedar chests placed side 
by side, and out of these chests were t'dken nice clean 
quilts, and snow-white counterpanes, and sheets, and 
pillov^s— Mrs. Clark's beautiful bed-clothing — and 
upon those chests ^was made a pallet upon which a 
queen might have reposed v^ith comfort. It wras so 
tempting in its cleanliness that I consented to lie down. 
The sole occupants of that room that night were my- 
self and my hostess — the aforesaid black "mammy." 
Rest, not sleep, came to my relief. The trampins: of 
feet, and now and then the muffled sound of human 
voices, kept me in a listening attitude, and it must be 
confessed in a state of painful apprehension. Thus 
the night passed. 

With the dawn of day, I was up, and ready 
to meet the day's requirements. "Mammy's" first 
greeting was, "What's your hurry?" "I am ac- 
customed to early rising. May I open the door?" 
The first thing I saw ^was Yankee, and he was stand- 
ing eating; but he was evidently too weak to attempt 
the task of getting that cumbersome vehicle and its 
freight to Decatur. So I arranged with one of the 



214 LIFE IN DIXIE 

men to put a steer to the wagon and carry them home. 
This he was to do for the stim of one hundred dol- 
lars. After an appetizing breakfast, I started home- 
^ward, leading Yankee in the rear of this turnout. Be 
it remembered, I did not leave without making ample 
compensation for my night's entertainment. 

No event of particular interest occurred on the way 
to Decatur. Yankee walked surprisingly well, and the 
little steer acquitted himself nobly. In due time De- 
catur appeared in sight, and then there ensued a scene 
which for pathos defies description. Matron and 
maiden, mother and child, each with a tin can picked 
up off the enemy's camping ground, ran after me and 
begged for just a little something to eat — just 
enough to keep them from starving. Not an appli- 
cant was refused, and by the time the poor, rickety, 
cumbersome wagon reached its destination, its con- 
tents had been greatly diminished. But there was 
yet enough left to last for some time the patient, 
loving mother, the faithful Telitha, and myself. 

A summary of the trip developed these facts : To the 
faithfulness of Uncle Mack was due the holding to- 
gether of the most grotesque vehicle ever dignified by 
the name of wagon ; over all that rough road it re- 
mained intact, and returned as good as when it 
started. And butfor the sorghumgrinding, poor Yan- 
kee would have acted his part unfalteringly. As for 
myself, I labored under the hallucination that I was 
a Confederate soldier, and deemed no task too great 
for me to essay, if it but served either directly or 
indirectly those who were fighting my battles. 



DURING THE WAB. 215 

CHAPTER XXI. 

A SECOND TRIP FOR SUPPLIES. 

Gathering "fodder" from a cane-brake as a preliminary — 
The lonely journey — Changing Yankee's name— I meet the 
Federal raiders. 

At an early hour in the morning of a bright autum- 
nal day, that memorable year 1864 — the saddest of 
them all — Yankee was roped (not bridled, mark you), 
and crocus sacks, four for him, one for Telitha, and one 
for myself, thrown over his back, and we three, boon 
companions in diversified industries, scampered off 
to a neighboring cane-brake — a favorite resort in 
those days, but now, alas for human gratitude! 
never visited for the sake of "auld lang S3'ne." 

Perfect health — thanks to the parents who trans- 
mitted no constitutional taint to my veins — unusual 
strength, and elasticity of motion, soon carried me 
there, and having secured Yankee to a clump of canes 
luxuriant with tender twigs and leaves, sweetened by 
the cool dew of the season, Telitha and I entered 
tipon the ^work of cutting twigs and pulling fodder. 

There being no drainage in those times, I often 
stepped upon little hillocks, covered with grass or 
some aquatic vegetation, that yielded to my weight, 
and I sunk into the mud and water ankle deep, at 
least, and Telitha was going through with similar 
experiences. I often laughed at her grimaces and other 
expressions of disgust in the slough of despond, and 
rejoiced with her v/hen she displayed the trophies of 



216 LIFE IN DIXIE 

success, consisting of nice brittle twigs, generously 
clad in tender leaves and full growth ; Yankee too, 
was unmindful of small difficulties and did his "level'* 
best in providing for a rainy day by filling his capa- 
cious paunch brimful of the good things so bounti- 
fully supplied by Providence in the marshes of oldDe- 
Kalb. B^'^ the time the aforesaid half-dozen sacks 
were filled, the enlargement of that organ of his an- 
atomy suggested that he proposed carrying home 
about as much inside of him as might be imposed 
upon his back — of this sagacity he seemed conscious, 
and very proud, and when the sacks of cane were put 
over his back, pannier fashion, he pursued the path 
homeward with prouder air and nobler mien than 
that which marked his course to the cane-brake. 

When we three were fully equipped for starting 
back to the deserted village, Yankee, as already de- 
scribed, and I with a sack of cane thrown over my 
right shoulder and reaching nearly to my heels, and 
Telitha in apparel and equipment an exact duplicate 
of myself , I w^as so overcome by the ludicrous feat- 
ures of the scene that for the time I lost sight of the 
pathetic and yielded to inordinate laughter. As mem- 
ory, electrical and veracious, recapittilated the facts 
and circumstances leading to this state of aff'airs, 
I realized that there was but one alternative— to 
laugh or to cry — but the revolutionary blood cours- 
ing through my veins decided in favor of the former, 
and I laughed until I could no longer stand erect, 
even though braced by an inflexible bag of cane, and 
I ignominiously toppled over. As I lay upon the 
ground I laughed, not merrily, but grimly, as I fancy 



DURING THE WAR. 217 

a hyena would laugh. The more I sought the sym- 
pathy of Tehtha in this hilarious ebullition, the more 
uncontrollable it became. Her utter want of appreci- 
ation of the fun, and a vague idea that she was in 
some way implicated, embarrassed her, and, judging 
from her facial expression, ever varying and often 
pathetic, wounded her also. In vain did I point to 
our docile equine, ^whose tethering line she held. His 
enlarged proportions and grotesque accoutrements 
failed to touch a single risible chord, or convey to her 
utiHtarian mind aught that was amusing, and she 
doubtless wondered what could have so affected me. 

In due time we reached Decatur . After passing the 
Hoyle place, the residence being then deserted, Telitha 
indicated by signs too intelligible to be misunderstood 
that she wonld go home with her sack of stock prov- 
ender, leading the horse, and then come back formine, 
and I could go b3^ a different route and not be known 
as a participant in the raid upon the cane-brake; but I 
was too proud of my fidelity to the Southern Con- 
federacy to conceal any evidences of it that the 
necessities of the timescalled into action, and I walked 
through the stricken village with my sack of cane in 
my arms instead of upon my back ; and >vould have 
walked as proudly to the sacrificial altar, myself the 
offering, if by so doing I could have retrieved the for- 
tunes of my people and established for them a govern- 
ment among the nations of earth. 

The lowing of our cow reached me as I entered the 
court-house square, and I hastened my gait and soon 
displayed before her, in her stall in the cellar, a tempt- 
ing repast. And my mother, who possessed the faculty 



218 LIFE IN DIXIE 

of making something good out of that which was or- 
dinary, displayed one equally tempting to me and 
Telitha — milk and mush, supplemented by coffee made 
of parched okra seed. 

' ' Tired nature's sweet restorer" faithfully performed 
its recuperative service that night. When I opened 
my eyes upon the glorious light of another day, I 
was so free from the usual attendants upon fatigue 
that I involuntarily felt for mj^ body— it seemed to 
have passed away during the night, and left no 
trace of former existence. I found it, though, 
perfectly intact, and ready to obey the behests 
of my will and serve me through the require- 
ments of another day. And m^^ mother seemed to 
be in her usual health and willing for me to 
do anything I thought I ought to do. She could 
not close her eyes to the fact that our store of sup- 
plies was nearly exhausted, and that there was only 
one wa3' to replenish it ; and she had the wisdom and 
the Christian grace to acquiesce to the inevitable 
without a discouraging word. Telitha, upon whose 
benighted mind the ridiculous phases of the previous 
day's adventures had dawned sometime in the inte- 
rim, laughed as soon as she saw me, and in well- 
acted pantomime made me fully aware that she en- 
joyed at this late hour the ludicrous scene that had 
so amused me. And Yankee evidently smiled when 
he saw me, and greeted me with a joyous little 
w^hicker that spoke volumes. 

A good breakfast for women and beast having 
been disposed of, I wended my way in quest 
of Uncle Mack. He alone understood the com- 



DURING THE WAB. 219 

plicated process of harnessing Yankee in ropes 
to the primitive vehicle manufactured by his own 
ingenious hands, and to him I always w^ent when 
this important task had to be performed. On 
this occasion, as upon others, it was soon executed. 
When all was ready and the unbidden tears dashed 
aw^ay, as if out of place, I seized the ropes and start- 
ed. Where? Ah, that w^as the question. There was 
only one place that offered hope of remuneration for 
the perilous undertaking, and forty miles had to be 
traversed before reaching it. Forty miles through a 
devastated country. Forty miles amid untold dang- 
ers. But in all the walks of life it has been demon- 
strated that pluck and energy , and a firm reliance 
upon Providence, are necessary to surmount difficul- 
ties, and of all these essentials I had a goodly share, 
and never doubted but that I would be taken care 
of, and my wants and those of others supplied. 
^'God helps those who help themselves," is an adage 
which deserves to be emblazoned upon every tree, and 
imprinted upon every heart. That vain presumption 
that folds the hands, and prays for benefits and ob- 
jects desired, without putting forth any effort to ob- 
tain them, ought to be rebuked by all good men and 
women as a machination of Satan. 

These and similar reflections nerved me for the task 
before me, and I started in earnest. When I got to 
the ''blacksmith shop," I looked back and saw my 
mother standing just where I left her, following me 
with her eyes. I looked back no more lest I dissolve 
in tears. As I passed the few^ abodes that were ten- 
anted, my mission "out" was apprehended, and I 



220 LIFE IN DIXIE 

T^as besought in tearful tones to bring back with me 
all I could, by those who told me that they and their 
children were upon the verge of starvation. I took 
all the sacks ^which were handed to me and rolled 
them together, and by the aid of a string secured 
them to the cart, and amidst blessings and good 
wishes pursued my devious way ; for, be it remembered, 
many obstructions, such as breast-works and thorny 
hedge-wood, presented formidable barriers to rapid 
travel for a considerable distance from Decatur. 

While leisurely walking beside Yankee, I ^was struck 
with the agility of his motion and his improved fig- 
ure since we traveled over these grounds a few weeks 
before. He had taken on a degree of symmetry that 
I never supposed attainable by the poor, emaciated 
animal which I captured in the cane-brake. His hair 
had become soft and silky, and in the sunlight dis- 
played artistic shades of coloring from light to deep- 
est brown ; and his long, black tail, which hung limp 
and perpendicular, now affected a curve which even 
Hogarth might have admired, and his luxuriant and. 
glossy mane waved prettily as a maiden's tresses. 
And his face, perfect in every lineament, and devoid 
of any indication of acerbity, lighted by large, liquid, 
brown eyes, would have been a fit model — a thing of 
beauty — for the pencil of Eosa Bonheur. Rubbing 
my hand over his silky coat and enlarged muscles, I 
decided to enjoy the benefit of his increased strength 
and gently ordered a halt. Stepping from the ground 
to the hub of the wheel , another step landed me into the 
cart, vehicle, wagon or landau, which ever you see 



DURING THE WAB. 221 

proper to denominate it ; I do not propose to confine 
myself to any one of these terms. 

Yankee understood the movement, and doubtless felt 
complimented. As soon as I took my seat in the 
chair — a concomitant part of the equipage — he 
started off at a brisk gait, ^which, without a word of 
command, he kept up until we came to the base of a 
long hill, and then he slackened his speed and leis- 
urely walked to the summit. I enjoyed going over 
ground without muscular effort of my o^wn, and de- 
termined to remain in the cart until he showed some 
sign of fatigue. I had only to hold the ropes and 
speak an encouraging word, and we traveled on right 
merrily. Ah, no ! That was a misnomer. Callous 
indeed would have been the heart who could have 
gone merrily over that devastated, impoverished land. 
Sherman, with his destructive hosts, had been there, 
and nothing remained ^thin the conquered boundary 
upon which "Sheridan's Crow" could have subsisted. 
Nothing was left but standing chimneys, and an oc- 
casional house, to which one \vould have supposed a 
battering ram had been applied. I looked up and 
down, and in every direction, and saw nothing but 
destruction, and the gaunt and malignant figure of 
General Starvation striding over our beautiful coun- 
try, as if he possessed it. I shook my head defiantly at 
him and went on, musing upon these things. I never 
questioned the wisdom or goodness of God in permit- 
ting them, but I pondered upon them, and have 
never yet reached their unfathomable depths. 

At the end of the first day's journey, I found 
m3'self twenty miles, or more, from the starting 



222 LIFE IN DIXIE 

point, and tenderly cared for by a good family, 
consisting, in these war times, only of a mother 
and several precious little children, who were 
too glad to have company to consider my ap- 
peal for a night's entertainment intrusive. 
This desolate mother and children thought they 
had seen all the horror of warfare illustrated by 
the premeditated cruelty of the Yankee raiders, and 
could not conceive how it could have been worse. 
But when I got through with my recital of injuries, 
they were filing that theirs should remain untold. 
A delicious supper, like manna from Heaven, was en- 
joyed with a zest unknown to those who have never 
been hungry. 

The light of another day found us all up in that 
hospitable household, and an appetizing breakfast 
fortified me for another day's labor in any field in 
which I might be called to perform it. The little 
boys, who had taken Yankee out of the rope harness 
the evening before, remembered its intricacies and had 
no diflficulty in getting him back into that complicated 
gear. Whenall was ready, and grateful good-byes had 
been uttered, I again mounted "the hub," and got into 
the vehicle. After I had taken my seat, the good 
lady handed me a package, which proved to be a nice 
lunch for my dinner. She also had a sack of pota- 
toes and pumpkins stored away in the landau ; and 
being a merciful woman, she thought of the horse, 
and gave some home-cured hay for his noon-day meal. 

All day I followed in the track of Sherman's min- 
ions, and found the destruction greater than when I 
had passed in this direction before. Coming to a hill, 



DURING THE WAR. 223^ 

the long ascent of which would be fatiguing to Yan- 
kee, I ordered a halt and got out of the wagon. 
Taking position by his side we climbed the hill to- 
gether, and then we went down it together, and 
continued to journey side by side, I oblivious to 
everything but the destruction, either complete or 
partial, on every side. At length we came to a lovely 
wee bit stream of water, exulting in its consciousness 
that no enemy could arrest it in its course to the sea, 
or mar its beauty as it rippled onward. We halted, 
and I loosened the ropes so that Yankee might par- 
take of the flo^dng water before eating his noon- 
day meal. And I am sure epicure never enjoyed 
luncheon at Delmonico's^th more zest than I did the 
frugal meal prepared for me by the friendly hands of 
that dear Confederate woman. Much as I enjoyed 
it, I finished my dinner sometime before Yankee did 
his, and employed the interim in laving my hands 
and face in the pure water, and contemplating myself in 
the perfect mirror formed by its surface. Not as 
Narcissus did I enjoy this pastime, but as one start- 
led by the revelation. Traces of care, sorrow, appre- 
hension for the future, were indelibly imprinted upon 
forehead and cheek, and most of all upon that most 
tell-tale of all features, the mouth. I wept at the 
change, and by way of diversion turned from the un- 
satisfactory contemplation of myself to that of 
Yankee. This horse, instinct with intelligence, appre- 
ciated every act of kindness, and often expressed his 
gratitude in ways so human-like as to startle and 
almost affright me. I am sure I have seen his face 
lighted by a smile, and radiant with gratitude. And 



224 LIFE IN DIXIE * 

no human being ever expressed more forcibly by 
word or act his sorrow at being unable to do all 
that was desired of him in emergency, than did this 
dumb brute when he gave me that long, earnest, 
pathetic look (mentioned in a former sketch) when, 
from sheer exhaustion, he lay down near the heap of 
ashes w^here once stood the beautiful residence of my 
friend of honored memory. Rev. Henry Clark. 

The more I contrasted the treatment ^which I, in 
common with my country v^omen and my country, had 
received at the hands of the Yankees (the then expo- 
nents of the sentiment of the United States toward the 
Southern people), and the gentle, friendly demeanor 
of the animal upon whom I had unthoughtedly 
bestowed a name constantly suggestive of an enemy, 
the more dissatisfied I became with it, and I deter- 
mined then and there to change it. Suiting the ac- 
tion to the decision, I gathered the ropes and led the 
noble steed to the brink of that beautiful little brook- 
let, and paused for a name. What should it be ? 
''Democrat?" I believed him to be a democrat, true 
and tried, and yet I did not much like the name. Had 
not the Northern democrats allowed themselves to 
be allured into abolition ranks, and made to do the 
fighting, while the abolitionists, under another name, 
devastated the country and enriched themselves by 
the booty. "Copperhead?" I did not like that much. 
It had a metallic ring that grated harshly upon my 
nerves, and I was not then aware of their great ser- 
vice to the South in restraining and keeping subor- 
dinate to humanity, as far as in them lay, the hatred 
and evil passions of the abolitionists. "Johnny Reb?" 



DURING THE WAB. 225 

Ah, I ^had touched the keynote at last, and it 
awakened a responsive chord that vibrated through- 
out my very being. I had a secret behef , more than 
once expressed in words, that my noble equina was a 
captured rebel *'held in durance vile" until bereft of 
health and strength, then abandoned to die upon the 
commons. "Johnny Reb!" I no longer hesitated. 
The name was electrical, and the chord with which 
it came in contact was charged to its utmost capac- 
ity. With the placid waters of that ever-flowing 
stream, in the name of the Southern Confederacy, I 
christened one of the best friends I ever had "Johnny 
Reb," a name ever dear to me. 

This ceremony having been performed to my satis- 
faction and to his, too— judging by the complaisant 
glances, and, as I fancied, by the suggestion of an 
approving smile which he bestowed upon me — I 
mounted the hub, stepped into the cart, seated my- 
self, and with ropes in hand continued my way to ' ' The 
Circle," and arrived there before night. Not. being 
tired, I immediately struck out among the vendors 
of home-made products — edibles, wearing apparel, 
etc. — for the purpose of purchasing a wagon load to 
carry to Decatur, not for the ignoble purpose of 
speculation, but to bestow, without monej^ and with- 
out price, upon those who, like my mother and my- 
self, preferred hunger and privation rather than give 
up our last earthly home to the destroying fiend that 
stalked over our land protected by Federal bayonets. 

Before the shades of night came on I had accom- 
plished my object. As a matter of history I will 



226 LIFE IN DIXIE 

enumerate some of the articles purchased, and annex 
the prices paid for them in Confederate money : 

One bushel of meal .$10 00 

Four bushels of com 40 00 

Fifteen pounds of flour 7 50 

Four pounds dried apples 5 00 

One and a half pounds of butter 6 00 

A bushel of sweet potatoes 6 00 

Three gallons of syrup 15 00 

Shoeing the horse.. 25 00 

For spendingthe night at Mrs. Born's,self and 

horse 10 00 

Not knowing the capabilities of "Johnny Reb," I 
feared to add one hundred and thirty-six pounds 
avoirdupois weight, to a cart already loaded to 
repletion, and the next morning on starting took my 
old familiar place by his side. To my slightest touch 
or word of encouragement, he gave me an appreciative 
look and obeyed to the letter my wishes with regard 
to his gaits — slow or fast in adaptation to mine. In 
due time we again rested on the banks of the beauti- 
ful little stream hallowed by the memory of repudia- 
ting a name, rendered by the vandalism of its legiti- 
mate owners too obnoxious to be borne by a noble 
horse, and by the bestowing upon him of another 
more in keeping with his respect for ladies and other 
fine traits of character which he possessed . Neither 
he nor I had lunch with which to regale ourselves ; 
and whilst he moved about at will^ cropping little 
tufts of wild growth and tender leaves, which in- 
stinct taught him were good for his species, I aban- 
doned myself to my favorite pursuit — the contempla- 



~A 



DURING THE WAR. 227 

tion of nature. Like Aurora Leigh, I "found books 
among the hills and vales, and running brooks," and 
held communion with their varied forms and invisi- 
ble influences. To me they ever spoke of the incom- 
prehensible wisdom and goodness of God. My heart, 
from my earliest recollection, always went out in ad- 
oration to Him who could make alike the grand old 
Titans of the forest and the humblest bladeof grass ; 
and now I beheld them under circumstances peculiarly 
calculated to evoke admiration. Change had come 
to everything else. The lofty trees stood in silent 
grandeur, undisturbed by the enemy 's step or the harsh 
clarion of war — as if defiant of danger— and gave 
shelter and repose to the humblest of God's creatures 
who sought their protecting arms. Beguiled by the 
loveliness of the woodland scenery, I often found 
myself stopping to daguerreotype it upon the tablets 
of my memory, and to feast my senses upon the 
aromatic perfume of wildwood autumn flowers. 
"Strong words of counseling" I found in thera and in 
"the vocal pines and waters," and out of these books 
I learned "the ignorance of men." 

"And how God laughs in Heaven whea any man 
Says, 'Here I'm learned; this I understand; 
In that I am never caught at fault, or in doubt.' " 

A word of friendly greeting and renewed thanks to 
mine hostess of two nights before, and her dear little 
children, detained me only a very short andunbe- 
grudged space of time; and during that time I did not 
forget to refer to the potatoes and the pumpkin so 
kindly given to me by them on my down trip, and 



228 LIFE IN DIXIE 

which I could have left in their care until my return, 
had I thought of it. 

Night again came on, and this time found me pick- 
ing my way as best I could over the rocks shadowed 
by Stone Mountain. On I plouded through the 
darkness, guided rather by the unerring step of Johnny 
Reb than any knowledge I had of the way. At length 
the poor faithful animal and myself were re wa rded for 
perseverance by seeing glimmering lights of the moun- 
tain village. We struck a bee line for the nearest one, 
and were soon directed to ''a boarding house." I 
was too glad to get into it then, to descant upon its 
demerits now. I assured the landlady that I needed no 
supper myself, and would pay her what she would 
charge for both if she would see that the horse was 
well fed. I think she did so. My valuable freight 
could not remain in the cart all night, and there was 
no one to bring it in. In vain did she assure me that 
I would find it all right if I left it there. I got into the 
cart and lifted the sacks and other things out of it my- 
self, and, by the help of the aforesaid person, got 
everything into the house. I fain would have lain 
down by these treasures, for they had increased in 
valu e beyond computation since leaving Social Cir- 
cle, and would have done so but for repeated assur- 
ance of their safety. 

An early "start next morning gave me the privilege 
of going over the ground familiar to my youth in the 
loveliest part of the day, and when the sun looked at 
me over the mountain's crest, I felt as if I was in the 
presence of a veritable king, and wanted to take my 
iDonnet off and make obeisance to him. His beneficent 



DURING THE WAB. 229 

rays fell alike upon the just and the unjust, and 
lighted the pathway of the destroyer as brightly as 
that of the benefactor. Amid destruction, wanton 
and complete, and over which angels might weep, I 
stepped the distance off between Stone Mountain and 
Judge Bryce's ; not a living thing upon the face of the 
earth, or a sound of any kind greeting me— the desola- 
tion of v^^ar reigned supreme. I again stopped at 
Judge Bryce's, and implored his protection to Deca- 
tur, but, as on the former occasion, he was afraid to 
leave his wife to the tender mercy (?) of the enemy. 
He told me he feared I would not reach home with 
my cart of edibles, as "'Yankee raiders had been 
coming out from Atlanta every day lately, "and that 
the set that was now coming was more vindictive 
than any that had preceded it. Good, dear Mrs. 
Byrce, trusting in the Lord for future supplies, took 
a little from her scanty store of provisions and added 
it to mine for her friend, my mother. 

With many forebodings of evil, I took up the line of 
march to Decatur. Hooked almost with regret upon 
my pretty horse. Had he remained the poor ugly ani- 
mal that was lassoed in the cane-brake, I would 
have had but little fear of losing him, but under my 
fostering care, having become pretty, plump and 
sprightly, I had but little hope of keeping him. Being 
absorbed by these mournful reflections and not having 
the ever-watchful Telithawith me to announce dan- 
ger from afar, I was brought to a full realization of 
its proximity by v^hat appeared to b2 almost an 
army of blue-coats, dashing up on spirited horses, 
and for the purpose of humiliating me, hurrahing 



230 LIFE IN DIXIE 

''for Jefferson Davis and theSouthern Confederacy." 
As^a flag of truce, I frantically waved my bonnet, 
^svhich act was misapprehended and taken as a signal 
of approval of their ''hurrah for Jefferson Davis and 
the Southern Confederacy," which was resounding 
v^ithout intermission. 

Seeing several very quiet, dignified looking gentle- 
men, who, although apart from the others, seemed 
to be exercising a restraining influence, I approached 
them and told them how I had gone out from Deca- 
tur unprotected and all alone to get provisions to 
keep starvation from among our defenseless women 
and children, and that I had to go all the way to So- 
cial Circle before I could get anything, and that I 
had walked back in order to save the horse as mucl 
as possible. These men, however, although seemingly 
interested, questioned and cross-questioned me until I 
had but little hope of their protection. One of them 
said, "I see you have one of our horses. How did 
you come by him?" And then the story of how 
came by him was recapitulated without exaggera- 
tion or diminution. This narrative elicited renewer 
hurrahs for Jefferson Davis and the Southern Coj 
federacy. A fe^v minutes private conversation be 
tween these gentlemen ensued, and all of them ap- 
proached me, and the spokesman said, "Two of us 
will escort you to Decatur, and see that no harm 
befalls you." It seemed, then, that no greater boon 
could have been offered under the canopy of Heaven 
and I am sure no woman could have experienced more 
gratitude or been more profuse in its expression. 



DURING THE WAB, 231 

The sight of my nervous, gray -haired mother, and 
her pretty mother ways, touched another tender chord 
in the hearts of these gentlemen, and if constraint ex- 
existed it was dispelled, and they became genial and 
very like friends before they left. They even promised 
to send us some oats for noble Johnny Reb, who dis- 
played the greatest equanimity all through these try- 
ing scenes. 



232 LIFE IN DIXIE 

CHAPTER XXII. 
NEWS FEOM THE ABSENT BROTHEK. 

He marclies into Tennessee with Hood — Extracts from his letters, 
written on the way — Two ears of parched corn — The night 
burial of a soldier. 

After the majority of these sketches were written^ 
I was permitted by my sister to take a few extracts 
from the cherished letters of our brother, ^which she 
numbered and carefully laid away as her most pre- 
cious treasure. To these we are indebted for all 
that we kno^w of his history during the trying days 
and weeks of which I have just been writing. Where 
^was he, and how did he fare? Few and far between 
were the letters now, in these dark days of the war. 
The soldiers themselves had but little opportunity to 
^write, and the mail facilities were poor. But I feel 
sure that to the survivors of the ''Lost Cause," these 
meager scraps concerning that brave but disastrous 
march into Tennessee will be read with melancholy 
interest : 

''On the line of Alabama and Georgia, 
Near Alpine, Ga., 8 o'clock at night, Oct. 17, 1864. 

"My Dear Sister: — As there is a probability of the 
mail courier leaving here early in the morning, I 
hastily scratch you a few lines that you may know 
that under the blessings of a kind Providence I am 
yet alive, and, though somewhat wearied, enjoying 
good health. Yours of 28th of September has been 
received, but under circumstances of hard marches, 



DURING THE WAR. 23S 

etc., there has been but one opportunity of \\rriting to 
you since leaving Palmetto, and then had just finish- 
ed one to Texas, and was fixing to write to you, 
when the order came to ^fall in.' 

"Well, leaving camps near Palmetto on the 29th of 
September, we crossed the Chattahoochee below, 
marched up to Powder Springs, threatened Marietta, 
and at the same time throwing Stewart's corps 
around above Big Shanty to cut the railroad, which 
was torn up for about thirteen miles, French's Di- 
vision attacking Allatoona, where he sustained some 
loss, having works to charge. Ector's Texas Brigade, 
and some Missourians, carried their part of the works, 

but A 's brigade failed to do their part, hence the 

advantage gained was lost. By this time the enemy 
were concentrating at Marietta, and General Hood's 
object being accomplished, he then marched rapidly to- 
wards Rome, flanking the place, and makirg a heavy 
demonstration as if he intended crossing the river and 
attacking the place. The enemy then commenced a 
concentration at Kingston and Rome. We then moved 
around Rome and marched rapidly up the Oosta- 
naula, and, on the evening of the 11th inst., sent a divi- 
sion of infantry with some cavalry across the river, 
and captured Calhoun with some stores. Moved on 
the next morning by a forced march, flanking Resaca, 
and striking the railroad immediately above, tearing 
it up to Tilton where there were about three hundred 
Yankees in a block-house. A surrender was demanded. 
A reply was returned : 'If 3^ou want us come and take 
us.' Our artillery was soon in position and a few^ 
shots soon made them show the 'white rag.' We tore 



234 LIFE IN DIXIE 

Up the road that night, and the next morning by nine 
o'clock, to Tunnel^Hill, burning every cross-tie and 

twisting the bars. Dalton surrendered without a 
iight, with a full garrison of negroes and some white 
Yankees. The block -house above, at a bridge, refused 
to surrender, and we had to bring the artillery into 
requisition again, which made them succumb. They 
all seemed to be taken by surprise and were hard to 
convince that it w^as a cavalry raid. They evacu- 
ated Tunnel Hill. Thus after five months of fighting 
and running, the Army of Tennessee re-occupied Dal- 
ton. Sherman has been taken by surprise. He never- 
dreamed of such a move. General Hood's plans all 
being carried out, so far as the State road was con- 
cerned, we marched across the mountains to LaFay- 
ette, in the vicinity of which we camped last night, 
and have marched twenty-three miles to-day. To- 
morrow we cross the Lookout Mountain, and will, I 
suppose, make directly for the Tennessee river, though 
of this I'm not certain. Hood has shown himself a 
general in strategy, and has secured the confidence 
of the troops. Wherever we go, may God's bless- 
ing attend us. Pray for me. In haste. 
Your affectionate brother, 

^ToM Stokes. 
''P. S.— Cherokee Co., Ala., Oct. 18, 1864. 

*'The courier not leaving this morning, I have a little 
more time left. We did not travel so far to-day as I 
heard we would, having come only ten miles, and 
have stopped to rest the balance of the evening. I 
find you dislike to have your communications cut off, 
so I see you are below Madison. Would to Heaven 



DURnSTG THE WAR. 235 

that, in one sense of the word my commtinication 
was cut off forever; yea, that every channel leading 
me in contact with the world, in any other character 
than as a minister of 'the meek and lowly Savior,' 
was to me forever blocked up. I am tired of con- 
fusion and disorder— tired of living a life of con- 
tinual excitement. * * * You spoke of pass- 
ing through a dark cloud. 'There is noth- 
ing true but Heaven,' and it is to that rest for 
the weary, alone, to which we are to look for perfect 
enjoyment. We are to walk by faith, and though the 
clouds of trouble thicken, yet we should know^that if 
we do our dutj^ we shall see and feel the genial sun- 
shine of a happier time. Yes, my sister, though we 
knew our lives should be lengthened one hundred 
years, and every day should be full of trouble; yet if 
we have a hope of Heaven, that hope should buoy up 
the soul to be cheerful even under earth's saddest 
calamities. 

"I think we will cross the Tennessee river and make 
for Tennessee, where it seems to be understood that 
we wall have large accessions to our army both there 
and from Kentucky * * *." 

The next letter is enclosed in an envelope which 
came through no post-office, as it was furnished by 
my sister, and upon it she wrote : ' ' This letter was sent 
to me on the 27th of November, by some one who 
picked it up upon the street in Madison. The post- 
office had been rifled by the Federals who (under com- 
mand of Slocum) passed through Madison, Novem- 
ber 18th and 19th. Though found without an en- 



236 LIFE IN DIXIE 

velope, and much stained, it has reached me, because 
signed with his full name." 

This letter is dated "Near Decatur, Ala., October 
28th, 1864." We give a few items : 

"We invested this place yesterda^^ and there has 
been some skirmishing and artillery firing until an 
hour ago, when it seems to have measurably ceased. 
We are in line of battle southwest of Decatur, about 
one and a quarter miles. I went out reconnoitering 
this morning, and saw the enemy's position. They 
have a large fort immediately in the town, with the 
'stars and stripes' waving above. I hear occasional 
distant artillery firing which I suppose is Forrest, 
near Huntsvillle. * * * We were several days cross- 
ing Sand Mountain. Have had delightful weather 
until a day or two ago it rained, making the roads 
very muddy, in consequence of which we have been on 
small rations, the supply trains failing to get up. 
We had only half rations yesterday, and have had 
none to-day (now nearly three o'clock), but will get 
some to-night. We try to be cheerful. * * * No letter 
from Texas yet. Not one of our company has had any 
intelligence from Johnson county since last May. I 
can't see what's the matter. I have been absent 
nearly one year, and have received but one letter." 
(Of course the dear loved ones in Texas wrote to 
their soldier braves on this side the Mississippi liver; 
but such are the misfortunes of war that these mis- 
sives were long delayed in their passage.) 

"Saturday, October 29th.— The condition of af- 
fairs this morning at sunrise remains, so far as I 
know, unchanged. * * '^ Yesterday evening we drew 



DURING THE WAR, 237 

two ears of corn for a day's rations ; so parched corn 
was all we had yesterday ; but we will get plenty to- 
day." 

And now we come to the last of the letters ever 
recei^^ed. It is probable it was- among the last he 
ever wrote. It is dated "Tnscumbia, Ala., Nov. 10, 
1864.— * * ^ We arrived at this place the 
31st of October, and have been here since, though 
^tvhat we are waiting for I can't tell. The pontoons 
are across the river, and one corps on the other side 
at Florence. We have had orders to be ready to 
move several times, but were countermanded. Wewere 
to have moved to-day, and even our wagons started 
off, but for some cause or other we have not gone. 
The river is rising very rapidly which may endan- 
ger the pontoons. 

''November 12th. — I thought to send this off yester- 
day morning, but, on account of the rain a few days 
ago, the mail carrier was delayed until last night 
v^rhich brought your dear letter of date October 
31st. It w^as handed me on my return from the grave- 
yard, where I had been to perform the funeral cere- 
raony of a member of the 6th Texas, who v^as killed 
yesterday morning by the fall of a tree. He had been 
in every battle in which this brigade was ever en- 
gaged ; an interesting young man, only nineteen years 
of age. 

The scene at the graveyard was a solemn one, 
being some time in the night before we arrived. 
The cold, pale moon shown down upon us, and the 
deep stillness which pervaded the whole scene, with 



238 LIFE IN DIXIE 

the rough, uncouth, though tender-hearted soldiers 
with uncovered heads, forming a large circle around 
the grave, made it, indeed, a scene solemnly impres- 
sive. The print of my Bible being small, I could not 
read, but recited from memory a fe^w passages of 
Scripture suitable to [the occasion, the one upon 
which I dv^elt chiefly being a declaration of Paul to 
the Corinthians, "For we must all appear before the 
judgment seat of Christ." I then spoke of the cer- 
tainty of that change from life to death ; that with 
the soldier, even, death is not confined to the battle- 
field ; spoke of our comrade, who but in the morn- 
ing bade as fair for long life as any of us, but v^ithin 
the space of a few short hours was lying in the cold; 
embrace of death ; of another of our brigade who^ 
was instantly killed a short time since by a stroke of 
lightning; closed with an exhortation to all to live 
nearer to God, and be prepared at all times to meet 
their God in peace. Oh, how sad! Far away from 
his home to be buried in a land of strangers. Hovr 
the hearts of his father, mother and sisters mustbleed 
when they receive the sad tidings. 

"I expect we will leave here for Middle Tennessee 
next Monday, as the river will be falling by that 
time. There is much talk of this brigade being sent 
home after this campaign. Major Rankin has been 
exchanged, and is with us. I gave Lieutenant Col- 
lins' overcoat to his company to take care of for him. 

Am so glad to hear from ma and sister. We get no 
letters from Texas ; but are continually sending some 
over, as all the disabled of the last campaign are be- 



DURING THE WAB. 239 

ing retired and sent across. Poor Uncle James! 
His Joseph is gone. * * * Write to me of ten . 
Affectionately, 

Your Brother." 
Ah, could thehistory of these brave men be written^ 
what a record it would be of endurance, of daring, 
of heroism, of sacrifice! And the heart-breaking 
pathos of the last chapters of their experience, ere 
the furling of the flag they followed ! Pat Cleburne 
and his fallen braves — 

"On fame's eternal camping ground, 

Their silent tents are spread, 
And glory marks with solemn round 

The bivouac of the dead." 



240 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

AN INCIDENT OF THE WAR. 
Related to the writer by Hon . Roger Q . Mills, of Texas . 

The night was black as Erebus. Not a scintil- 
lant of light from moon or star penetrated the dense 
forest, and no eye save that of God discerned the 
dangers of the situation. Hill and dale, mountain 
and precipice, creek and surging stream, presented 
barriers that none but men inured to hardship, and 
unknown to fear, would have attempted to surmount. 

Obedient to the command of the superior officer, 
the remnant of that magnificent and intrepid army, 
once guided by the unerring wisdom of Joseph E. 
Johnston, plodded their way uncomplainingly over 
these trying difficulties. The Lord must have been 
amazed at their temerity, and shook the very earth 
in rebuke, and ever and anon by the lightning's flash 
revealed glimpses of the peril to which they were ex- 
posed; and yet in unbroken line they groped their 
Tivay, not knowing whither. At length bewildered, 
and made aware of impending danger, the general in 
command ordered a halt. The martial tread ceased, 
and all w^as still as death. In the midst of this still- 
ness a voice, sweet as that of a woman, was heard re- 
peating that grand old hymn, which has given com- 
fort to many weary ones treading the wine press : 



DURING THE WAR. 241 

*'How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord, 
Is laid for your faith in His excellent Word! 
What more can He say than to you He hath said, 
You who unto Jesus for refuge have fled. 

*'In every condition, in sickness, in health, 

In poverty's vale, or abounding in wealth. 

At home and abroad, on the land, on the sea. 

As thy days may demand shall thy strength ever be . 

^'Fear not, I am with thee, O! be not dimayed, 

I, I am thy God, and will still give thee aid; 

I'll strengthen thee, help thee and cause thee to stand. 

Upheld by My righteous, omnipotent hand . 

*'When through the deep waters I call thee to go, 
The rivers of woe shall not thee overflow ; 
For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless, 
And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress. 

*'When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie, 
^ly grace all sufficient shall be thy supply; 
The flame shall not hurt thee; I only design 
Thy dross to consume, and thy gold to refine . 

*'E'en down to old age, all My people shall prove 
My sovereign, eternal, unchangeable love; 
And when hoary hairs shall their temples adorn. 
Like lambs they shall still in My bosom be borne. 

''The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose, 
I will not, I will not desert to his foes ; 
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake, 
I'll never, no never, no never, forsake." 

General Mills said that during the rendition of this 
beautiful hymn, not even the breaking of a twig, or 
the changing of a footstep broke the silence of the 
midnight tranquillity. The rain drops ceased to 



242 LIFE IN DIXIE 

fall; the electricity darted harmlessly through the 
tree tops : and the mtittering of the thunder lulled. 

After a most impressive silence of several minutes^ 
the same voice vsrhich had rendered the hymn so 
effectually repeated from memory an appropriate 
passage of Scripture and proceeded to expatiate 
upon it. He had not uttered a dozen w^ords before 
another flash of lightning revealed the upturned 
heads and listening attitudes of the men composing 
that weird congregation, and each one of themknev^ 
as if by instinct that he was going to hear some- 
thing that would help him on his journey to the 
Land of Beulah. Strong in the faith, he carried 
many of the truths and promises of the Holy Word 
within his mind, and now, as many times before, he 
opened them by the magic key of memory and unfolded 
to view their unsearchable riches. He begged his fel- 
low-men and comrades in arms to accept them with- 
out money and without pHce — to accept them that 
they might wear kingly robes and royal diadems, and 
be with Jesus in His Father's regal mansions through- 
out the grand eternities. And as he told the old, old 
story of divine love, it assumed a contemporaneous 
interest and seemed a living present reality. Every 
man who heard it felt the living force and 
energizing influence of the theme. And thus by 
earnest, aggressive appeals, he exerted a wonder- 
ful power for good over the minds of his hearers; 
and those men, even now with phantom hands 
pointing gaunt fingers at them, by their deep inter- 
est testified to the warm suffusing purpose which 
made itself felt in everv word that he uttered, as he 



DURING THE WAR. 243 

told of the Fatherhood of God and the ever-present 
sympathy^ of a benignant and infinite parent, who 
deHghteth not in the death of sinners, but rather 
that all should come to Him and have eternal life. 
General Mills added that, as the fine resonant voice 
of the speaker penetrated the dense forest and found 
its "way to his hearers in distinct enunciation of well- 
chosen words, the deep-toned thunder emphasized the 
impressive points, and made it a scene which for 
grandeur and sublimity has never been surpassed , while 
the vivid flashes of lightning revealed again and again 
the earnest face and solemn mien of my brother. 
Lieutenant Thomas J. Stokes, of the Tenth Texas 
Infantry of Cleburne's Division . 



244 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

PickiDg up minnie balls around Atlanta — Exchanging them for 

bread. 

After mingling renewed yows of allegiance to our 
cause, and expressions of a willing submission to the 
consequences of defeat — privations and evil dire, if 
need be — with my morning orison ; yet I could not be 
oblivious to the fact that I was hungry, very hungry. 
And there was another, whose footsteps were becom- 
ing more and more feeble day by day, and whose 
voice, when heard at all, was full of the pathos of 
despair, who needed nourishment that could not be 
obtained, and consolation, which it seemed a mockery 
to offer. 

In vain did I look round for relief. There was 
nothing left in the country to eat. Yea, a crow flying 
over it would have failed to discover a morsel with 
which to appease its hunger ; for a Sheridan by an- 
other name had been there with his minions of de- 
struction, and had ruthlessly destroyed every vestige 
of food and every means of support. Every larder was 
empty, and those with thousands and tens of thou- 
sands of dollars, were as poor as the poorest, and as 
hungr^^ too. Packing trunks, in every house to which 
refugees had returned, contained large amounts 
of Confederate money. We had invested all we pos- 
sessed except our home, and land and negroes, in Con- 
federate bonds, and these were now inefficient for pur- 



DUBING THE WAR. 245 

chasing purposes. Gold and silver we had none. A 
more favored few had a little of those desirable me- 
diums of purchase, and sent a great distance for sup- 
plies ; but they offered no relief to those who had 
stayed at home and borne the brunt of battle, and 
saved their property from the destroyers' touch. 

What was I to do? Sit down and wait for the in- 
evitable starvation? No ; I was not made of such 
stuff. I had heard that there had been a provision 
store opened in Atlanta for the purpose of bartering 
provisions for munitions of war — any thing that could 
be utilized in warfare. Minnie balls were particu- 
larly desirable. I therefore took Telitha by the apron, 
and had a little talk with her, and when I was 
through she understood that something was up that 
would bring relief to certain organs that had become 
quite troublesome in their demands, and she was 
anxious to take part in the performance, whatever 
that might be. 1 went also to my mother, and im- 
parted to her my plans of operation, and she took 
that pathetic little backward step peculiar to herself 
on occasions which tried her soul, and with quivering 
lip she assented in approving, though almost inaudible 
words. 

With a basket in either hand, and accompanied by 
Telitha, who carried one that would hold about a 
peck, and two old dull case-knives, I started to the 
battle-fields around Atlanta to pick up the former 
missiles of death to exchange for food to keep us from 
starving. 

It was a cold day. The wind was very sharp, 
and over the ground denuded of forest trees and 



246 LIFE IN DIXIE 

undergrowth, the wind was blowing a miniature 
gale. Our wraps were inadequate, and how 
chilled we became in that rude November blast! 
Mark you, it was the 30th of November, 1864. But 
the colder we were, the faster we walked, and in an 
incredibly short time we were upon the battle-field, 
searching for lead. 

I made it a point to keep very near the road in the 
direction of Atlanta, and soon found mj^self on the 
very spot where the Confederate magazine stood, the 
blowing up of which, by Confederate orcers, shook 
the very earth, and was distinctly heard thirty-five 
or forty miles distant. An exclamation of glad sur- 
prise from Telitha carried me to her. She had found 
a bonanza, and was rapidly filling her basket with 
that which was more valuable to us than gold. In a 
marshy place, encrusted with ice, innumerable bullets, 
minnie balls, and pieces of lead seemed to have been 
left by the irony of fate to supply sustenance to hun- 
gry ones, and employment to the poor, as all the win- 
ter those without money to send to more favored and 
distant points found sure returns from this lead mine. 
It was so cold ! our feet were almost frozen, and our 
hands had commenced to bleed, and handling cold, 
rough lead cramped them so badly that I feared we 
would have to desist from our work before filling the 
baskets. 

Lead! Blood! Tears! O how suggestive ! Lead, 
blood and tears, mingled and commingled. In vain did 
I try to dash the tears away. They would assert them- 
selves and fall upon lead stained with blood. "God of 
mercy, if this be Thy holy will, give me fortitude to 



DURING THE WAR. 247 

bear it uncomplainingly," was the heart-felt invoca- 
tion that went up to the throne of grace from over 
lead, blood and tears, that fearful day. For relief, 
tears did not suffice. I wanted to cry aloud ; nature 
would not besatisfied with less, and I cried like a baby, 
long and loud. Telitha caught the spirit of grief, 
and cried too. This ebullition of feeling on her part 
brought me to a realization of my duty to her, as 
"well as to my poor patient mother to w^hom the day 
must seem very long, and I tried to stifle my sobs and 
lamentations. I w^ondered if she had the forebod- 
ings of coming bereavement that were lacerating my 
own heart. I did not doubt but that she had, and I 
cried in sympathy for her. 

At length our baskets were filled, and we took up 
our line of march to the desolated city. There 
v^ere n o labyrinths to tread, nor streets to follow, 
and an occasional question secured information 
that enabled us to find the "commissary" without 
delay. Telitha was very ambitious that I should 
appear a lady, and wanted me to deposit my 
load of lead behind some place of concealment, while 
we went on to deliver hers, and then let her go back 
for mine. But I was too much a Confederate soldier 
for that, and walked bravely in with my heavy, 
precious load. 

A courteous gentleman in a faded grey uniform, 
evidently discharged because of wounds received in 
battle, approached and asked what he could do for 
me. ''I have heard that you give provisions for 
lead," I replied, "and I have brought some to ex- 
change." What seemed an interminable silence en- 



248 LIFE IN DIXIE 

sued, and I felt without seeing that I was undergoing 
a sympathetic scrutiny, and that I was recognized as 
a lady ''to the manor born." 

''What would you like in exchange," he asked. "If 
you have sugar, and coffee, and meal, a little of each 
if you please," I timidly said. "I left nothing to eat 
at home." The baskets of lead were removed to the 
rear and weighed, and in due time returned to me 
filled to the brim with sugar, coffee, flour, meal, lard,, 
and the nicest meat I had seen in a long time. 

"O, sir," I said, "I did not expect so much." 

"You have not yet received what is due you," this 
good man replied, and handed me a certificate v^hich 
he assured me would secure as much more on pre^ 
sentation. 

Joy had gone out of my life, and I felt no thrill of 
that kind ; but I can never describe the satisfaction 
I experienced as I lifted two of those baskets, and 
saw Telitha grasp the other one, and turned my face 
homeward. 



DURING THE WAB. 249 



CHAPTER XXV. 

The Decatur women's struggle for bread — Sweet singing in hard 
places — Pleasant visitors — I make a trip to Alabama — The 
news of my brother's death. 

The tug of war was upon us from the mountains to 
the sea-board, and ingenious was the woman who 
devised means to keep the wolf, hungry and rave- 
nous, from the door. The depreciation of our cur- 
rency, and its constant diminution in value, had ren- 
dered it an unreliable purchasing commodity, and we 
had nothing to give in exchange for food. I, there- 
fore, felt that I had literally rubbed against Aladdin's 
lamp when I saw much needed food, good and pala- 
table, given in exchange for minnie balls, and for any 
kind of metal convertible into destructive missiles, 
and I was anxious that others should share the bene- 
fit accruing from the lead mines mentioned in a for- 
mer sketch. In pursuance of this humane desire, I 
proclaimed its discovery and results from house to 
house; for, mark you, we had no ''Daily Courier," nor 
messenger boy to convey the glad tidings to the half- 
famished women and children in and around Decatur. 
And if my words could have been changed into 
diamonds by the magic wand of a fairy, not one of 
those starving people would have accepted the change, 
of diamonds for bread. 

It required only a short time to raise a large com-^ 
pany of women, girls and little boys, who wereready 



:250 LIFE IN DIXIE 

to do service for themselves and their country by 
digging lead with case-knives from mines providen- 
tially furnished them. And was it not serving the 
-cause of the Confederacy? I thought so ; and never 
walked with more independent step than when acting 
as generalissimo of that band of devoted, patriotic 
women, en route to the "lead mines" around Atlanta. 
Telitha, too, evidently felt that she was an impor- 
tant adjunct in the mining enterprise, and a conspic- 
uous personage in the scenes being enacted, and em- 
phasized her opinion by strong and suggestive ges- 
ticulation. On this occasion she playfully wrenched 
from my hand the small vessel with which I had sup- 
plied myself and which I carried on the former trip, 
and substituted a larger one, while for herself she 
got at least a half-bushel measure. 

All who remember the month of December, 1864, 
Jjnow that it abounded in clouds and rain and sleet, 
and was intensely cold in the Confederate States of 
America; and in the latitude embracing Atlanta, such 
-severity of weather had never been known to the oldest 
inhabitant. But what mattered it? Each one in that 
little band of women was connected by a bright link 
to the illustrious armies that were enduring greater 
privation and hardship than those to which she was 
exposed, and counted it a willing oblation upon his 
country's altar, and why should she not prove faith- 
ful to the end, and suffer the pangs of hunger and 
privation too? 

The work of picking up minnie balls began as soon 
as we reached the battle-field, and, consequently, we 
•carried several pounds some distance unnecessarily. 



DURING THE WAR. 251 

The ''mine" proper, I doubt not, could have filled 
several wagons. As "a little fun now and then is 
relished by the wisest men," I found a grim smile as- 
serting itself at the quaint and ready wit of those es- 
timable girls, the Misses Morton, whose Christian 
names 1 have forgotten and who, alas! have long 
since joined the silent majority. One of them as- 
sumed the character of a Confederate soldier and the 
other that of a Federal, and the conversation carried 
on between them, as they ''exchanged coffee and to- 
bacco," was rich, rare and racy. The exchange having 
been eifected, the signal of combat was given. "Look 
out, Billy Yank I" "Look out, Johnnie Reb!" were 
simultaneous warnings from opposing forces, and 
minnie balls whizzed through the air, much to the mer- 
riment of the little boys who wished themselves men, 
that they might be with their fathers, whizzing min- 
nie balls from musket mouths. 

The sham battle over, the work of digging lead 
was resumed, and in an amazingly short time our 
vessels were filled to overflowing. I watched Telitha 
with interest. She was eager to fill her basket, and 
more than once she said, "Me full I" and added a lit- 
tle gutteral laugh that alv^ays indicated pleasure. 
Her attempt to raise the basket from the ground, 
and her utter failure to do so, surprised her amazingly, 
and her disappointment was pathetic. With great 
reluctance she saw her treasure reduced to her ca- 
pacity of handling. Each member of the party expe- 
rienced similar disappointment on at tempting to raise 
her burden, and we left more exhumed lead and other 
valuables than we carried away. 



252 LIFE IN DIXIE 

We took Up our line of march, and as there were no 
obstructions in the way (for, be it remembered, Sher- 
man had been there, and with torch and explosive re- 
moved all obstructions save the standing chimneys 
and carcasses of horses and cattle shot by his order to 
prevent the possibility of use to the rebels), we struck 
a bee-line to the commissary. As the first to take ad- 
vantage of this industry, I took the lead, and the 
vigor of young womanhood, and "a. heart for every 
fate," gave elasticity to my steps, and I soon outdis- 
tanced even the girls. In due time we reached the 
commissary, and in a short while a most satisfactory 
exchange was made, thanks to one whose great heart 
beat in unison with ours, and in lieu of the heavy 
burden which we laid down, we picked up food for the 
nourishment of our tired bodies and those of our 
loved ones at home. Oh, how light, comparatively, 
it seemed ! I verily believe if it had weighed the same 
number of pounds, it would have seemed Hghter, and 
the change would have seemed restful. ^'Good-bye, 
noble ladies and sisters in a righteous cause," was the 
parting salutation of our no less noble benefactor. 

With our respective packages of food we again 
turned our faces homeward, solemn as a funeral 
march, for, strive against them as we would, we all 
had forebodings of ill, and the swaying of our bodies 
and our footsteps kept time with the pulsations of 
our sad hearts. I fancied as I approached standing 
chimneys and other evidences of destroyed homes, 
that the spirit of Sherman, in the guise of an evil 
spirit, was laughing over the destruction his diabolism 
had -wrought. In the midst of these reflections a 



DURING THE WAR. 253 

song, which for sweetness and tranquilizing melody 
I have seldom heard equalled and never surpassed, 
broke the stillness of the scene and added to the mel- 
ancholy interest of the occasion. It was the well 
known ballad, then familiar to every child in the Con- 
federacy, ''When this Cruel War is Over," and sung 
by those gifted sisters mentioned as a part of the 
lead digging company. The pure, sweet soprano 
voice of one of the girls, put to flight the spirit of 
Sherman, and when it was joined by the flute-like 
alto of the other, every evil spirit within and without 
was exorcised, and the spirit of submission took its 
place. And yet as the words rang out and found an 
echo in my own heart, I had to walk very straight, 
and turn my head neither to the right nor to the left, 
lest I betray the copious tears trickling down my 
cheeks. At length pent-up feeling burst the fetters, 
and an audible sob removed restraint, and we cried 
as women burdened with great sorrow. Precious 
tears I Nature's kind alleviator in time of trouble. 

"The day was cold and dark and dreary, 
And it rained and the winds were never weary," 

and yet I was nerved for its duties and toil by the 
consciousness of having met, uncomplainingl3% the 
work which the preservation of my own principles 
made me willing to endure. Several days subse- 
quent to this trip to Atlanta, the Morton girls came 
running in and told me that v^e had some delightful 
friends at the'^Swanton place," who requested to see 
us. My mother was too much exhausted by anxiety 
and waiting for that which never came, to go, but 



254 LIFE IN DIXIE 

approved my doing so. I, therefore, donned my sun- 
bonnet and went; and whom should I meet but Mrs. 
Trenholm and her sweet young daughters, Essie and 
Lila? I was delighted to see them, and invited them 
to go home w^ith me. Ma received them in a spirit of 
cordial hospitality, and they were invited to remain 
at her house. Without hesitation, Mrs. Trenholm 
accepted the proffered kindness, and returned to her 
wayside rendezvous only to send her trunks, bedding 
and other household gc.ods. And truly the coming 
of that saintly woman and those lovely girls was a 
rare benediction, especially at that time. Day by day 
ma looked in vain for tidings from "the front" — 
wherever that might be — and day by day her health 
and strength was perceptibly weakened by disap- 
pointment. Mrs. Trenholm's sympathy with her in 
her suspense regarding the operations of Hood's 
army, and the fate of her beloved son, was both 
touching and consoling. Seeing that my mother and 
myself v^ere hoping almost against hope, she endeav- 
ored to bring us to a realization of that fact, and a 
complete submission to the will of God, even though 
that will deprived us of our loved one. All of her 
Christian arguments and consolations had been pon- 
dered over and over by mother and daughter, but 
they never seemed so sweet and potent as when com- 
ing in the chaste and simple language of a precious 
saintly woman. 

With the tact peculiar to the refined of every 
clime and locality, Mrs. Trenholm assumed manage- 
ment of the culinary department, and her dinner- 
pot hung upon our crane several weeks, and 



DURING THE WAR. 255- 

daily sent forth appetizing odors of bacon and peas. 
How we enjoyed those peas and that bacon, and the 
soup seasoned w^ith the only condiments at our com- 
mand — salt and red pepper — and the good hoe cakes ! 
Mrs. Trenholm had a large sack of cow-peas, and a 
sack of dried fruit, and other articles of food with 
which she was provided for herself and her family 
before she left Soil th west Georgia en route to her 
home in Marietta, which she left in obedience tc5 the 
order of William Tecumseh Sherman, and which she 
learned, before reaching Decatur, had shared the fate 
of nearly all other homes which had to be thus aban- 
doned. Although magnanimously pro if ered, we were 
averse to sharing Mrs. Trenholm 's well-prepared and 
ofttimes tempting cuisine, unless our proportion of 
food equaled hers ; and fearing even the appearance 
of scanty supplies, I set about to gather up "the 
miners," so that we might appoint a day to again go 
lead digging, if that which we left in as many little 
heaps as there were members of the company had 
been, in the interim, gathered up by others. 

On former occasions I had led my company to vic- 
tory over that malignant general left by Sherman to 
complete his work, and, styled by him ''General Star- 
vation," and they were willing to go wherever I led. 
Now, I had two recruits of whom I was very proud. 
Telitha,too, had gathered from observation that the 
sweet young Trenholm girls were going with us, and 
she set about to provide very small baskets for their 
use, which, with gestures amusing and appropriate, 
she made us understand were large enough to contain 
all the lead that girls so pretty and so ladylike ought 



256 LIFE IN DIXIE 

to carry. To their credit, however, they repudiated 
that idea, and carried larger vessels. By appoint- 
ment the '4ead diggers" were to meet at the tan- 
yard, those arriving first to wait until the entire 
number came. ''Man proposes and God disposes." 
Just as my last glove was drawn on, Telitha,ever on 
the alert, said ''Morton, Morton," and I looked and 
saw the girls coming. "We needn't go — the commis- 
sary has folded its tents, and silently stolen away," 
was the voluntary announcement. Imagine my con- 
sternation and disappointment — the last hope of 
supply cut off ! Ma saw the effect upon me, and said 
in a more hopeful voice than was her wont, "The 
Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want." And 
good Mrs. Trenholm said her sack of peas was like 
the cruse of oil that never seemed to diminish in 
quantitj^ ho^vever much was taken out of it. An 
examination, too, of our own resources was quite 
gratifying; but I knew I ought to be "providing for 
a rainy day." 

I pass now over an interval which brings me to the 
latter part of January, 1865. My sister returned 
home from Madison and spent several weeks with 
us, but had accepted an offer to teach at Grantville, 
on the LaGrange and West Point Railroad. I had a 
precious aunt, my mother's sister, Mrs. Annie Wat- 
son, whom I loved dearly, and of whom I had not 
heard a word since the interruption of the mail com- 
munication by the siege of Atlanta, and my mother's 
frequent mention of her determined me to go and see 
if this beloved aunt was living, and, if so, in what 
condition. I knew she was one of the favored ones 



DURING THE WAR. 257 

of earth, viewed from a worldly standpoint, but I 
knew not what changes had come over her or her 
worldly possessions. Rumor conveyed startling ac- 
counts of the atrocious deeds of Wilson's raiders, and 
I knew that they were operating in that rich cotton 
belt of Alabama w^hich embraced my aunt's planta- 
tion and beautiful home. I could scarcely hope that 
that home and its valuable appointments had es- 
caped the cupidity of an organized band of robbers 
protected by the United States Government. 

When I think of my mother's fond affection for her 
children, and her tender solicitude for their welfare, I 
am constrained to think that she thought I was en- 
dowed with a sort of charmed existence not subject 
to the perils which beset the pathway of ordinary 
mortals, and hence her ready acquiescence to my 
proposition to undertake a journey of many miles,, 
under circumstances of imminent danger, inspired 
with confidence amounting to certainty that I would 
be preserved by an All-w^ise Providence for future use- 
fulness. I had very little preparation to make for the 
contemplated trip. A pretty, small -checked dress, 
which had done service through many a changing 
scene, and w^as good for as many more, and a 
hat— well, I beg to be excused from describing it — and 
gloves upon which I had expended skill in darning 
until it was difficult to perceive where the darning 
ceased and the glove began, completed my toilet, and 
I bade to all appearance a cheerful good-bye to my 
mother and kind friends, and went by private convey- 
ance to Fairburn. There I took the train for Cowles' 
Station, Alabama. 



258 LIFE IN DIXIE 

Nothing of particular interest transpired on the 
way. My conntry vs^as prostrate and bleeding from 
many lacerations, and my tears flowed so freely that 
by the time I reached my railroad destination I had 
a very sick headache. That '* there is a providence 
that shapes our ends" was again illustrated. Some 
of my aunt's neighbors, who knew me at least by 
name, were at the station, and kindly offered to carry 
me to her residence, a distance of ten miles. I f oimd my 
annt in feeble health, and all alone save her usual 
dusky attendant. Her only child, Mrs. Mary E. Sea- 
man, had gone to Tuskeegee to see her little daugh- 
ter, ^who was there going to school in care of a friend 
and relative. Col. Smith Graham. My closest scru- 
tiny failed to detect any change in my aunt's mode 
of living. The same retinue of servants came into 
the house to see and shake hands with mistress' niece, 
and after many questions about ''our white folks in 
Georgia," retired from my presence with the same 
courtesy that had marked their demeanor towards 
me in ante-bellum days. 

My aunt manifested her joy at seeing me in man}- 
ways, and wept and smiled alternately, as I related 
my adventures with the Yankees. "And my sister, 
what was their treatment of her?" My evasive an- 
swer, ''It could have been worse," heightened her de- 
sire to learn particulars, and I told them to her. She 
was grateful for all leniency shown by them, and 
affected to tears by unkindness. As the day waned, 
and the middle of the afternoon came on, m}^ aunt 
proposed walking "to meet Mary." I supported her 
fragile form, and guided her footsteps in the best 



DURING THE WAR. 259 

part of the road. How like her beloved sister in 
Georgia she seemed! Accustomed to this little diver- 
sion, for she always went to meet Mary, she had 
reckoned accurately regarding the time of her daugh • 
ter's coming, and we had not gone far when we saw 
the carriage descending a declivity in the distance. 
Nelson, the coachman, had also recognized ''Mistress 
and Miss Mary," and announced his discovery to my 
cousin. Increased speed in the gait of the horses 
soon brought us together, and she opened the door 
and stepped to the ground. After kissing her dear 
mother, she encircled me in her arms, and kissed me 
time and again, and then assisted me into the car- 
riage, and she and her mother followed. I greeted 
the coachman in a cordial manner, because of past 
service and present fidelity to ''mistress and my 
white folks" generally. 

With my rapidity in conversation, I could scarcely 
keep up with my cousin's questions. Happy woman ! 
She had never seen any "Blue -coats," or, in the par- 
lance of the times, "Yankees," and she enjoyed my 
description of them, especially when in answer to the 
question, "Do they look like our men?" I attempted 
to define the difference. It was amusing to me to hear 
her describe the preparations she made for the com- 
ing of Wilson and his raiders. 

After reaching home, she left her mother and my- 
self only a few minutes. I scarceh' perceived her ab- 
sence, and yet when she returned the disparity in our 
dress was not so apparent. The elegant traveling suit 
had been exchanged for her plainest home attire, and 
every article of jewelry had disappeared. The brief 



260 LIFE IN DIXIE 

period spent with these dear relatives was spent in 
mntual efforts to entertain and amuse each other. 
My aunt's conversation was like sweet music in which 
minor chords abounded. Her love for her sister, and 
apprehension of evil, gave a pathetic turn to every 
conversation she attempted, and it was evident to 
me that she had given up all hope of my brother's 
safety, and her resignation under similar circum- 
stances was a great support to me. 

Much as I enjoyed this luxurious home, and its re- 
fined appointments, there was a controlling motive — 
a nearer tie— that made me willing to again take up 
the hardships and perils of warfare, and battle for 
life with that relentless enemy left by Sherman to 
complete his cruel work, the aforesaid General Star- 
vation. 

After many farewell words were spoken , I left my 
aunt, accompanied by her daughter, who went with me 
to the station for the purpose of seeing me on the train 
bound for Fairburn, then the terminus of the rail- 
road. It was past noon when the train left the sta- 
tion, and in those days of slow railroad locomotion, 
it was all the afternoon reaching West Point. I 
learned before reaching there that I would have to 
remain over until the next morning, and, therefore, 
as soon as I stepped from the cars, started to hunt a 
place atw^hich to spend the night. Wending my way, 
solitary and alone, through the twilight, I saw Mr. 
John Pate, the depot agent at Decatur, coming to- 
wards me. 

''Oh, Mr. Pate, have you heard anything from ma 
in the last week?" 



DURING THE WAR. 261 

"Yes; it went very hard with her, but she was some 
better this morning." 

I did not have to ask another question. I knew it 
all, and was dumb with grief. The thought that I 
would never see my darling brother again paralyzed 
me. I saw him in the mirror of my soul, in all the 
periods of his existence. The beautiful little baby 
boy, looking at me the first time out of his heavenly 
blue eyes, and his second look, as if not satisfied with 
the first, followed by the suggestion of a smile. Ah, 
that smile ! It had never failed me through successive 
years and varying scenes. The boyhood and j^outh — 
honest, truthful and generous to a fault — and the no- 
ble, genial manhood, had all developed within my 
recollection, and I loved him with an intensity border- 
ing on idolatry. ThCvSe scenes and many others 
rushed through my mind with kaleidoscopic rapidity 
and made me so dizzy that I had no knowledge of 
how I reached the "hotel." My heart cried and re- 
fused to be comforted. From the consolations of re- 
ligion and patriotism it recoiled and cried all the 
more, A great tie of nature had been sundered, and 
the heart, bruised and crushed and bleeding, pulsated 
still with vitality that would have flickered out but 
for the hope of giving comfort to the poor bereaved 
mother and sister in our great sorrow. Good ladies 
bathed my throbbing temples and kissed my cheeks 
and spoke comforting words, for they were all drink- 
ing the bitter waters of Marah, and knewhowto 
reach the heart and speak of the balm of Gilead. 

"Killed on the battle-field, thirty steps from the 
breastworks at Franklin, Tennessee, November 30th, 



262 LIFE IN DIXIE 

1864," was the definite information regarding my 
brother's death, left for me by Mr. Pate. 

Interminable as the darkness of night appeared, it 
at length gave way to the light of day, and I was 
ready with its dawn to take the train. But, oh, the 
weight of this grief that was crushing me ! Had the 
serpents which attacked Laocoon, and crushed him 
to death b)' their dreadful strength, reached out and 
embraced me in their complicated folds, I could not 
have writhed in greater agony. I did not believe 
it was God's will that my brother should die, and I 
could not say to that Holy Being, ''Thy will be 
done." In some way I felt a complicity in his death— 
a sort of personal responsibility. When my brother 
wrote to me from his adopted home in Texas that 
having voted for secession, he believed it to be his 
duty to face the dangers involved by that step, and 
fight for the principles of self-government vouchsafed 
by the Constitution of the United States, I said noth- 
ing in reply to discourage him, but rather I indicated 
that if I were eligible I should enter the contest. 
These, and such as these were the harrowing reflec- 
tions which accused me of personal responsibility for 
the demon of war entering our household and carry- 
ing off the hope and prop of a widowed mother. 

I found my poor stricken mother almost prostrate. 
The tidings of her son's tragic death did the work 
apprehended by all who knew her nervous tempera- 
ment. Outwardly calm and resigned, yet almost 
paralyzed b3^ the blow, she was being tenderly cared 
for by our saintly neighbor, Mrs. Ami Williams and 
her family, who will always be held in grateful re- 
membrance by her daughters. 



DURING THE WAIi. 203 



CHAPTER XXVI. 



MY MOTHERS DEATH. 
Rev. Dr. John S. Wilson performs the funeral service. 

In sympathy with a disappointed people who had 
staked all and lost all in the vain effort to defend the 
inherited rights of freemen, and had not yet rallied 
from the depression occasioned by defeat, the spring 
of 1866 had withheld her charms, and, instead of 
donning a mantle of green, decorated with pansies, 
violets and primroses, hyacinths, bluebells and daffo- 
dils, verbenas, phlox and geraniums, and bloom of vine 
and briar in endless variety, the first day of April 
found her wounded, bleeding bosom, wrapped in the 
habiliments of sorrow and despondency. A few 
brave old apple trees, as if to encourage the more 
timid, had budded and blossomed and sent forth 
sweet fragrance as of yore, and a few daring sprigs 
of grass suggested spring-time and sunny skies. 
Loneliness, oppressive and melancholy, and a spirit 
of unrest, prompted me to go to the depot in quest 
of something that never came, and my sister had 
stepped over to our neighbor, Mrs. Williams'. 

Our mother loved the spring-time. It had alwaj^s 
been her favorite season of the year. Fifty -nine ver- 
nal suns had brought inspiration and hope to her 
sensitive, tender heart, and given impulse to a check- 
ered life; but now no day-star of hope shed its efful- 
gence for her. As I mentioned in a former sketch, her 



264 LIFE IN DIXIE 

only son had fallen mortally wounded upon the san- 
guinary battle-field of Franklin, and she had never 
recovered from the shock. 

After a few months of patient endurance, an at- 
tack of paralysis had occurred, and during many days 
life and death contended for thevictor3^ But the skill 
of good physicians, among them Dr. Joseph P. Lo- 
gan, and faithful, efficient nursing, aided in giving 
her a comfortable state of health lasting through 
several months. But the fiat had gone forth, and 
now after a pathetic survey of earth, mingled with 
thankfulness even then to the God of the spring-time, 
she succumbed to the inevitable. 

Returning from the depot, I espied in the distance 
the approaching figure of Telitha. As she came up to 
me she was the very picture of despair. With one 
hand clasped to her head, she fell on the ground and 
lay as if dead for a moment. My worst apprehen- 
sions were more than realized. I found my mother 
speechless, and never more heard her voice — never 
more heard any sound emanating from her lips except 
labored, heavy breathing. It was all so sudden and 
strange and sad, I cannot describe it. Neighbors and 
friends came in by the score, and did all they could to 
mitigate our great sorrow. **Johnnie" Hardeman 
stayed until all w^as over, and mother never received 
from loving son kinder care or more unremitting at- 
tention. Paul Winn also remained and manifested 
deep sympathy, and so did other neighbors. Oh, the 
sorrow, the poignant sorrow, to see a mother in the 
embrace of death, and to have no power over the 
monster! About thirty hours of imconsciousness, 



DURING THE WAR. ~ 265 

and without a struggle, "life's fitful dream was 
over," about 9 o'clock p. m., April 1st, 1866. The 
silent hush that ensued \vas sacred, and scarcely 
broken by the sobs of those most deeply afflicted. 

Loving hands fashioned a shroud, and a beautiful 
casket was obtained from Atlanta. When all was 
done, and our mother arrayed for the tomb, she 
looked like the bride of Heaven. I gazed long and 
earnestly upon her face and figure, and went away 
and came back, and gazed again admiringly. For 
every lineament was formed in a mold that compelled 
admiration. 

During the two da^'s that she lay there, I often 
lingered by her side; and I recalled the many scenes, 
ofttimes perilous and sad, and ofttimes joyous 
and gay, through which w^e had gone together. 
Although a wee bit girl, scarcely' turned in my fifth 
year at the time of my mother's second marriage, I 
remembered her as a bride. I remembered our jour- 
ney by gig and wagon to Cassville, then, paradoxical 
as it may sound now, situated in the heart of a 
wilderness of beauty and savagery. The war-whoop 
of an uncivilized race of Indians, justly angry and 
resentful, reverberated through the impenetrable for- 
est that belted the little settlement of white people 
that had the hardihood and bravery to make their 
homes among them. I remembered ho^v she soon be- 
came a favorite, and was beloved by every one in 
that sparsely-settled locality, and won even the hearts 
of the Indians, by kindness towards them. She 
taught them how to make frocks and shirts, and 



266 LIFE IN DIXIE 

clothes for their children, for the Cberokees were an 
ambitiDiis people, and aspired to assimilation with 
the white race ; and, to please them, she learned to 
bead moccasins, and other articles, ornamental and 
useful, just as thej did. She also learned their alpha- 
bet, and became able to instruct them in their own 
language. 

I remembered how she had always worked for the 
poor; not so much in societies (where the good that 
is accomplished in one way is often more than coun- 
terbalanced by the harm that is done in others), as in 
the quiet of her home, and in the humble habitations 
of God's poor. I remembered, with a melancholy 
thrill, how she had worked for our soldiers, and had 
not withheld good deeds from an invading, alien 
army. Reverently I took in mine her little, symmet- 
rical hand as it lay peacefully over the heart that had 
ever beat in unison with all that was good. It was 
weather-beaten, and I could feel the rough places on 
the palm through the pretty white silk glove in which 
it was encased. Cold and stark in death, it gave no 
responsive pressure to my own. I thought of its past 
service to me in which it never tired. It had trained 
my own from the rudimentary ''straight lines" and 
''pot hooks," through all the intricacies of skilled 
penmanship ; and from the picturesque letters on a 
sampler to the complete stitches of advanced em- 
broidery. The little motionless hand that I now held 
in my own had picked corn from cracks and crevices 
in bureau drawers, which served as troughs for Gar- 
rard's cavalry horses, to make bread with which to 



DURING THE WAB. 267 

appease her hunger and mine. I gazed upon the pallid 
face and finely -chiseled features. The nose never 
seemed so perfect, or the brow so fair, or the snow- 
white hair so beautiful. The daintiest of mull caps 
heightened the effect of the perfect combination of 
feature, placidity and intellectual expression. I 
fancied I had never seen her look so beautiful, and felt 
that it was meet that \sre should lay her away in a 
tomb where she could rest undisturbed until the 
resurrection morn, not doubting that the verdict of a 
great and good God would assign her a place among 
His chosen ones. 

Soothing to our bruised hearts was the sweet sing- 
ing of those who watched at night beside her lifeless 
form. With gratitude we remember them still: 
Laura and Mary Williams, Emma and John Kirk- 
patrick, Josiah Willard and John McKoy. One of 
the hymns they sang was, "Jerusalem, My Happy 
Home." 

The hour for the funeral service came. Friends 
and neighbors and fellow-citizens had been assem- 
bling for several hours, and now the house was full,, 
and the yard was thronged. Where did this con. 
course of people come from, old men, war-stricken 
veterans, and a few young men who had survived 
the bloody conflict that had decimated the youth of 
the South, and boys and women and girls? All alike 
came to pay respect to the deceased friend, and to 
show sympathy for the bereaved and lonely sisters. 
That sainted man and friend of ours. Rev. John S. 
Wilson , took his stand near the casket, and we sat near 



268 LIFE IN DIXIE 

him, and those who loved us best got very near to 
us. Ah, w^ell do I remember them ! I could call each 
by name now, and the order in which they came. An 
impressive silence ensued, broken by the man of God 
uttering in hopeful intonation and animated manner, 
"She is riot dead, but sleepeth," and a sermon fol- 
lowed upon the resurrection of God's people, never 
surpassed in interest and pathos. All felt the power 
of his theme, and the eloquence of his words. He also 
spoke of the humble modesty of his friend, who had 
counted herself least in the congregation of the right- 
eous, and dispensed favors to others in an unobtru- 
sive manner, and who practically illustrated the di- 
vine command: ''Do unto others, as ye would that 
others should do unto you." This beautiful funeral 
tribute was succeeded by the hymn — 
"Kock of ages, cleft for me," 

which was sung with an unction which none bux 
Christians can feel. 

The last earthly look, solemn and earnest, was 
taken of our long-suffering, patient, loving mother, 
and everybody in the house followed our example 
and gazed reverently upon the pretty face, cold in 
death. And then the pall-bearers, "Johnnie*' Kirk- 
patrick, "Johnnie" Hardeman, Virgil Wilson and 
Mr. G. W. Houston, bore her to the grave. 

With uncovered head and grey locks fluttering in 
the vernal breeze, Dr. Wilson repeated the beautiful 
burial service of the Presbyterian Church. I can 
never describe the utter desolation of feeling I 
■experienced as I stood clasped in the arms of my sis- 



DURING THE WAR. 269^ 

ter, and heard the first spadeful of earth fall over 
the remains of onr loved one. 

But we had heard above all the glorious words». 
''This mortal shall put on immortality," and ''O^ 
death, where is thy sting? O, grave, where is thv 
victory?" 



270 LIFE IN DIXIE 



CHAPTER XXVII, 



A REMINISCENCE. 



''Sister, you are not paying any attention whatever 
to my reading, and you are losing the most beauti- 
ful thoiights in this delightful book.'' 

''Yes, and I am sorry to do so ; but I think I see one 
of Rachel's children — Madaline or Frances." 

My sister closed her book, and, looking in the direc- 
tion indicated, agreed with me that the negro woman, 
clothed in the habiliments of widowhood, who was 
coming up the avenue with a little boy by her side 
and one in her arms, was one of Rachel's children ; 
and, although she was scarcely in her teens when she 
^vent away, she w^as a mother now, and traces of 
care were visible in every lineament of her face. I rec- 
ognized her, however, as Rachel's youngest daughter, 
Frances, and went to meet her. 

"Is that you, Frances?" I asked. 

"Yes, Miss Mary, this is me; j^oursame nigger Fran- 
ces, and these are m^^ children." 

"I am glad to see you and your children ;" and I ex- 
tended my hand in genuine cordiality to her who had 
once been a slave in my mother's family, and I bade 
her welcome to her old home. Frances was too de- 
monstrative to be satisfied with simply hand-clasping, 
and putting her boy on the ground, she threw her 



DURING THE WAB. 271 

arms round me and literally overwhelmed me with 
kisses. My hands, neck and face were covered with 
them, and she picked me up and carried me in her 
arms to the house, her children following in amazed 
astonishment. She now turned her attention to 
them, and, after deliberately shaking the wrinkles out 
of their clothes, she as deJiberateh^ introduced them 
to me. The older of the two she introduced as ''King 
by name," and the younger as "Lewis by name." 

''You see. Miss Mary, I named my children King 
and Lewis 'cause my white folks named my brothers 
King and Lewis." 

The ceremony of introducing her sons to her old 
white folks being performed to her satisfaction, she 
again turned her attention to me, and again literally 
overwhelmed me with caresses. 

Entering the house, I asked Frances and her chil- 
dren to come in, too. 

"Miss Mary, whar's Miss Polly?" 

"Have you not heard, Frances, that ma is dead?" 

"Seem to me I has heard somethin' about it, but 
some how I didn't believe it. And my poor Miss 
Polly is dead ! Well she ain't dead, but she's gone to 
heaven." 

And Frances became quite hysterical in demonstra- 
tions of grief. 

"And Mars Thomie, what about him, Miss Mary?" 

"He was killed by the enemy at Franklin, Tenn., the 
30th of November, 1864." 

''Miss Mary, did them old Yankees kill him?" 

"Yes, he was killed in battle." 



272 LIFE IN DIXIE 

And again, whether sincere or affected, Frances be- 
came hysterical in demonstrations of grief. 

''Miss Alary, whar's Miss Missouri? Is she dead 
too?" 

"No ; that was she who was sitting in the portico 
w^ith me as you were coming up the avenue. She 
always has to go off and compose herself before 
meeting any of you — ma was that way, too — I sup- 
pose you remind her of happier days, and the con- 
trast is so sad that she is overcome by grief and has 
to get relief in tears." 

"Yes'm, I have to cr^^ too, and it does me a mon- 
strous heap of good. I know it's mighty childish, but 
I jest can't help it. Jest to think all my white folks 
is done dead but Miss Mary and Miss Missouri !" 

''Our brother left a dear little boy in Texas, and T 
am going after him next winter. He and his mother 
are going to live with us, and then we v^ill not be so 
lonely." 

"That's so, Miss Mary." 

Frances and [her children having partaken of a 
bountiful supper, she resumed, with renewed vigor,, 
her erratic conversation, which consisted, chiefly, 
of innumerable questions, interspersed with much 
miraculous information regarding herself since she 
left her white folks and became a wife, a mother,, 
and a widow. 

"Miss Mary, whar's my children going to sleep to- 
night?" 

"With your help I will provide a comfortable place 
for them, and, also, for you." 



DURING THE WAR. 273 

And taking a lantern and leading the way to the 
kitchen, I entered and pointed to a light bedstead, 
and told her to cany a portion of it at a time to my 
room, and we would put it up in there. 

''Same old room, jest like it was when me and my 
mammy used to sleep in it. 

**Well, things do look mighty nateral if it has been 
a long time since I seed it. 

''And Miss Mary is agoing to let me and my 
children sleep in her room. Well !" 

The bedstead having been placed in position, a mat- 
tress and bed clothing were furnished. And soon the 
little negro children were soundly sleeping under the 
protecting roof of their mother's former young mis- 
tresses. 

"Whar's your tea-kettle. Miss Mary?" Having 
been told where to find it, Frances took it to the 
^well and filled it with water, and, by adding a little 
more fuel to the fire, soon had it boiling. 

"Whar's your bath-tub. Miss Mary?" 

That, too, was soon produced and supplied with 
hot water, reduced to proper temperature. Memo- 
ries of the past left no doubt in my mind as to the 
tise to which the water was to be applied, and I de- 
termined to gratify every fancy that would gi\^e 
pleasure to our former handmaid, and, therefore, I 
made no resistance when garters were unbuckled, 
shoe and stockings removed, and feet tenderly lifted 
into the tub. She knew just how long to keep them 
there, and how to manipulate them so as to give the 
most satisfaction and enjoyment ; and how to dry 
them — a very important process. And then the shoes 



274 LIFE IN DIXIE 

and stockings were again put on, and giving me an 
aiFectionate pat on the head she told me to sit still 
until she told me to move. 

**Now, whar's your comb and brush?" 

The force of habit must have impelled her to ask 
this question, as, without awaiting an answer, she 
went to the bureau and got the articles about which 
she had asked, and in a few moments she had my 
long, luxuriant black hair, uncoiled and flowing over 
my shoulders. She was delighted ; she combed and 
braided it, and unbraided and combed it again and 
again, and finally, as if reluctant to do so, arranged 
it for the night. 

"Now, whar's your gown?" 

"You will find it hanging in the ward-robe." 

Having undressed me, Frances insisted upon put- 
ting the gown on me, and then wanted to carry and 
put me in bed ; this service, however, I declined with 
thanks. All these gentle manipulations had a sopo- 
rific effect upon me, and I fain would have slept, but 
no such pleasure was in store for me. Frances had 
an axe to grind, and I had to turn the grindstone, or 
incur her displeasure. Mark her proposition : 

"Miss Mary, I come to give you my children." 

"Your what?" 

"My children, these smart little boys. I'll go with 
you to the court-house in the mornin' and you can 
have the papers drawed up and I'll sign 'em, and 
these little niggers will belong to you 'til they's of 
age to do for theyselves ; and all I'll ever ask you to 
do for me for 'em is to raise them like my Miss Polly 
raised me." 



DURING THE WAR 275 

''That you should be wilHng to give your children 
away, Frances, surprises me exceedingly. If you are 
without a home, and would like to come here and 
live, I will do all I can for you and your children. 
The kitchen is not occupied, only as a lumber or bag- 
gage room, and 3^ou can have that without paying 
rent ; and you can take care of the cow and have all 
you can make off of her milk and butter, except just 
enough for the table use of two ; and you can have 
a garden without paying rent, and many other fa- 
vors—indeed, I will favor you in every possible way." 

"Well, I tell you how it is. Miss Mary. You see, 
mammy wants to open up a laundry, and she wants 
me to help her. She's done 'gaged several womensto 
help her, and she wants me to go in with her sorter 
as a partner, you see. And I wants to get my chil- 
dren a good home, for you knows if I had to take 
care of 'em I couldn't do much in a laundry." 

''And you want me to take care of them?" 

"Yes'm; j ust like you used to take care of your 
own little niggers before freedom, and after I sign 
the papers they'll belong to you, dorvt you Jciioivf^ 

"I am sorry to disappoint j'ou, Frances, but I can- 
not accept your offer. If slavery were restored and 
every negro on the American continent were offered 
to me, I should spurn the offer, and prefer poverty 
rather than assume the cares and perplexities of the 
ownership of a people who have shown very little 
gratitude for what has been done for them." 
Without seeming to notice the last sentence, Fran- 
ces exclaimed : 



276 LIFE IN DIXIE 

"Well, it's mighty strange. White folks used to 
love little niggers, and now they won't have 'em as a 
gracious gift." 

Under the cover of night she had made her proposi- 
tion and received her disappointment, after which she 
lay down beside her children and was soon sleeping 
at the rate of 2 :40 per hour, if computed by the snor- 
ing she kept up. In due time morning, cheerful, sun- 
lighted morning, came, and with it many benign 
influences and good resolutions for the day. 

Frances asked where everything was, and having 
ascertained, went to work and soon had a nice, appe- 
tizing breakfast for us, as well as for herself and 
children. After that important meal had been en- 
joyed, she inquired about the trains on the Georgia 
Railroad, and asked what time she could go into At- 
lanta. I told her she could go at nine o'clock, but I 
preferred that she should stay until twelve 
o'clock, m. 

"Miss Mary, what was in that trunk I saw in the 
kitchen last night?" 

"I scarcely know ; odds and ends put there for safe- 
keeping, I suppose." 

"May I have the trunk and the odds and ends in it? 
They can't be much, or they wouldn't be put off 
there." 

"We will go and see." Again I took the kitchen 
key, and the trunk key as well, and having unlocked 
both receptacles, I told Frances to turn the contents 
of the trunk out upon the floor. When she saw them 
I noticed her disappointment, and I told her to 
remain there until I called her. I went in the house 



DURING THE WAB. 277 

and got a pair of sheets, a pair of blankets, a quilt, 
several dresses and underclothing, and many things 
that she could make useful for her children, and put 
them together, and then called her and told her to 
take them and put them in the trunk. 

''Look here, Miss Mary, you ain't going to give 
me all them things, is you?" 
"Yes, put them in the trunk and lock it." 
A large sack of apples, a gift also, was soon gath- 
ered and a boy engaged to carry it and the trunk 
over to the depot in a wheelbarrow. Promptly at 
half-past eleven o'clock the trunk and apples, and 
Frances and her little boys, were on the way to the 
depot, en route to Atlanta, their future home, and 
even a synopsis of the subsequent achievements of 
that woman and her nnlettered mother would be sug- 
gestive of Munchausen. 



278 LIFE IN DIXIE 



OONFEDEKATE LOVE SOXG. 



Over the mountains of Winter, 

And the cold, cold plains of snow, 

Down in the valleys of Summer, 
Calling my love I go. 

And strong in my woe and passion, 
I climb up the hills of Spring, 

To listen if I hear his voice 
In songs he used to sing. 

I wait in the fields of Autumn, 
And gather a feast of fruit. 

And call my love to the banquet ; 
His lips are cold and mute. 

I say to the wild bird flying: 
My darling sang sweet as you; 

Fly o'er the earth in search of him, 
And to the skies of blue. 

I say to the wild-wood flowers : 
My love was a friend to you ; 

Send one of your fragrant spirits 
To the cool Isles of Dew, 

Gold-girt by a belt of moonbeams. 
And seek on their gleaming shore 

A breath of the vanished sweetness 
For me his red lips bore. 

I stand at the gates of Morning, 
When the radiant angel. Light, 

Draws back the great bolt of darkness, 
And by the gates of Kight, 



DUBING THE WAR. 279 

When the hands of bright stars tremble 
While clasping their lanterns bright; 

And I hope to see him passing, 
And touch his garments white. 

O, love 1 if you hear me calling, 

Flee not from the wailing cry ; 
Oome from the grottoes of Silence 

And hear me, or I die ! 

Stand out on the hills of Echo; 
The sensitive, pulsing air 

Will thrill at your softest whisper- 
Speak to me, love, from there ! 

O, love ! if I hear you calling. 

Though far on the heavenly side, 
My voice will float on the billow :. 

"Come to your spirit bride." 

—Mary A. H. Gay. 



280 LIFE IN DIXIE 



TO THE READER, 

Who has kindly perused these sketches,! would say» 
as they have already attained length and breadth 
not anticipated from the beginning, I will withhold 
the sequels to many of them for, perhaps, another 
volume of reminiscences. 

Were I possessed of the Sam Weller genius and ver- 
satility, and the happy faculty of making the reader 
wish I had written more, I would throw open the 
doors of the store-house of my war memories, a 
structure as capacious as the ''Southern Confeder- 
acy" and canopied by the firmament, and invite the 
public to enter and share with me the treasures hidden 
there. The coruscations of wit and the profound 
displays of wisdom by many who donned Confeder- 
ate grey and went forth in manhood's prime to bat- 
tle for the principles of their country, would employ 
the minds and feast the intellect of the most erudite. 
There are living, glowing pictures hanging upon the 
wall which delineate the mysteries of humanity in all 
its varied forms, and, by example, demonstrate that 
we often spurn with holy horror that which is better 
far than that which we embrace with all the fervor 
of affection. I would resurrect the loftiest patiotism 
from the most humble graves in the Southern land, 
and prove by heroic deeds and noble acts that valor 
on the battle-field was as often illustrated by the 
humble soldier whose name has not been preserved in 



DURING THE WAB, 281 

*' storied urn," as by the gallant soif of chivalrous 
ancestors who commanded the applause of an ad- 
miring multitude. I would place by the side of those 
greatest of chieftains, Robert E. Lee, and our impreg- 
nable ''Stonewall" Jackson and Albert Sydney John- 
ston, many of our soldiers "unknown to fame," in 
faded grey jackets and war-worn pants, and challenge 
the world for the difference. I would dwell with 
loving interest upon the innumerable sad, sweet faces 
of the mighty throng of bereaved mothers, sisters and 
aunts, out of whose lives all the light had gone out, 
and who, though hopeless, uttered no word of com- 
plaint against our cause or its leaders, but toiled on 
with unswerving faith and souls that borrowed the 
lustre of heaven. All these sad things in my gallery I 
would recreate in living form and glowing color. And, 
saddest of all, I would live over with them that melan- 
choly period when the very few, comparatively, that 
were left of the noble band of defenders of our prin- 
ciples, came back, not with buoyant step and victor 
crown, but with blighted hopes and despondent mien 
to desolated homes and decimated families. Under 
the new regime I would tell of despair and suicide, of 
hope and energy and success ; I would tell how I 
have lived in this gallery — this deserted hall — its silent 
occupants my companions and friends, my inspiration 
to useful deeds. There is not a day that I do not 
arouse by muffled tread the slumbering echoes of this 
past, and look upon the cherished souvenirs of the 
patriotic friends now roaming the beautiful gardens 
of Paradise, or sleeping the mystic waiting of the res- 
urrection. I ponder upon their lives, their ambitions, 



282 LIFE IN DIXIE DURING THE WAIi. 

their disappointments, and it requires no eiBfort of the 
imagination to animate those dead forms and invest 
them with living attributes. And daily, in imagina- 
tion I weave for them a laurel crown that shall grow 
greener and greener as the cycles of Time speed on to 
Eternity. 



APPENDIX. 285 



APPENDIX 



The author has selected the article, '* Gleanings from 
General Sherman's Despatches," as an appendix for 
the sketches not because of a desire to keep up the 
issues of the war between the States (for she would 
gladly bury them so deep they could never be resur- 
rected until the great Judge of all issues calls them 
up to receive sentence by His unerring judgment), but 
rather, because of the persistent insistence of North- 
ern republicans to make it appear to the world that 
the Southern people are a semi-barbarous people, 
solely responsible for the war and altogether u n- 
worthy fraternal consideration in the compact called 
the Union. 

The article mentioned, '' Gleanings from General 
Sherman's Despatches," is to be found, word for 
word, in the Southern Magazine, May, 1873, Vol. 
XII. Baltimore: Turnbull Brothers. 



GLEANINGS FROM GENERAL SHERMAN'S DE- 
SPATCHES. 

Those thick, loosely-bound octavos printed on soft 
and rather dingy paper, which Congress publishes 
and distributes under the name of Public Documents, 
are not generally considered very entertaining read- 
ing. But there are exceptions ; and one of these is 
the report of the joint committee of Congress on the 



286 APPENDIX. 



conduct of the war. Indeed, compared with such mild j 
pastorals as '^Some Account of the Cheese Manufao-j 
ture in Central New York," or ''Remarks on the Cul-^ 
ti vat ion of Alfalfa in Western Tennessee," it is quite 
luridly sensational, and in parts reminds us of those 
striking reports of the Duke of Alva to his royal mas- 
ter, which have been disinterred in the dusty archives 
of Simancas. As a study of congressional nature, 
military nature, and human nature generally, in its 
least attractive aspects, these eight stout volumes are 
richly worth perusal. Here the reader is allowed to 
peep behind the scenes of that portentous drama ; 
here he may see the threads of the intrigues that cen- 
tered in Washington ; may hear a petty newspaper 
correspondent demonstrating with an animation 
that we can scarcely ascribe to fervid patriotism, the 
incapacity, the ignorance and even the doubtful ''loy- 
alty" of the commander-in-chief; may see private 
malignity and vindictiveness putting on grand Ro- 
man airs, and whispering debaters draping themselves 
in the toga of Brutus. 

However, it is not with these aspects of the reports 
that we at present have to do, but with the de- 
spatches of General Sherman on his march through 
Georgia and South Carolina. A great deal of fiction 
and some verse, * we believe, have been written about 
this famous march or grand foray ; but here we have 
the plain matter-of-fact statement of things as they 
were, and they form a luminous illustration of the 
advance of civilization in the nineteenth century as 



* One of these poems, "Marching through Georgia," we learn by the evi- 
dence, was a favorite canticle of Murray, the kidnapper and butcher of 
Captain Polynesius. 



APPENDIX. 287 

exemplified in the conduct of invasions, showing- 
how modern philanthropy and hnraanitarianism, 
while acknowledging that for the present war is a nec- 
essary evil, still strive to mitigate its horrors and 
spare all avoidable suffering to non-combatants. For 
this purpose we have thought it worth while to re- 
produce a few of the most striking extracts illustra- 
ting the man, his spirit, and his work. 

A kind of keynote is sounded in the despatches to 
General Stoneman, of May 14, which, after ordering 
him to ''press down the valley strong," ends with the 
words, "Pick up whatever provisions and plunder 
you can." 

On June 3, the question of torpedoes is discussed,, 
and General Stedman receives the following instruc- 
tions : ''If torpedoes are found in the possession of 
an enemy to our rear, you may cause them to be put 
on the ground and tested by wagon loads of prisoners, 
or. if need be, by citizens implicated in their use. 
In like manner, if a torpedo is suspected on any part 
of the railroad, order the point to be tested by a car- 
load of prisoners or citizens implicated, dra^wn by a 
long rope." "Implicated," we suppose here meant 
"residing or captured in the neighborhood," 

On July 7, we have an interesting despatch to Gen- 
eral Garrard on the subject of the destruction of the 
factories at Roswell: "Their utter destruction is 
right, and meets my entire approval; and to make the 
matter complete, you will arrest the owners and em- 
ployees and send them under guard, charged with 
treason, to Marietta, and I will see as to any man in 
America hoisting the French flag and then devoting 



288 APPENDIX. 

his labor and capital to supplying armies in open hos- 
tility to our goverment, and claiming the benefit of 
his neutral flag. Should you under the impulse of 
anger, natural at contemplating such perfidy, hang 
the wretch, I approve the act beforehand . . . . I re- 
peat my orders that you arrest all people, male and 
female, connected with those factories, no matter 
what the clamor, and let them foot it, under guard, 
to Marietta, whence I will send them by cars to the 
North. Destroy and make the same disposition of 
all mills,' save small flouring mills, manifestly for lo- 
cal use ; but all saw mills and factories dispose of 
eff'ectually ; and useful laborers, excused by reason of 
their skill as manufacturers, from conscription, areas 
much prisoners as if armed." On the same day he 
further enlarges on this subject in a despatch to Gen- 
eral Halleck : 

"General Garrard reports to me that he is in posses- 
sion of Roswell, where were several very valuable cot- 
ton and wool factories in full operation, also paper 
mills, all of which, by my order, he destroyed by 
fire. They had been for years engaged exclu- 
sively at work for the Confederate government; 
and the owner of the woolen factory displayed 
the French flag, but as he failed to show the 
United States flag also. General Garrard burned 
it also. The main cotton factory was valued at 
a million of United States dollars. The cloth on 
hand is reserved for the use of the United States hos- 
pitals ; and I have ordered General Garrard to arrest 
for treason all owners and employees, foreign and na- 
tive, and send them to Marietta, whence I will send 



APPENDIX, 289 

them North. Being exempt from conscription, they 
are as much governed by the rules of war as if in 
the ranks. The women can find employment in Indi- 
ana. This whole region was devoted to manufacto- 
ries, but I will destroy everyone of them." There are 
two points specially worth notice in this despatch. 
The first, that since these men and women, by reason 
of sex, or otherwivSe, are exempt from conscription, 
they are, therefore, as much subject to the rules of 
war as if in the ranks. Why not do less violence to 
logic and state frankly that factory hands were in de- 
mand in Indiana? The next point is that the Ros well 
factories, whether French property or not, were de- 
stroyed because they were making cloth for the Con- 
federate government, followed presently by the dec- 
laration that every manufactory in that region shall 
be destroyed, evidently without reference to its pro- 
ducts or their destination. How much franker it 
would have been to have added to this last sentence, 
**and thus get rid of so many competitors to the fac- 
tories of the North." The South must learn that 
while she may bear the burden of protective tariffs, 
she must not presume to share their benefits. An- 
other despatch to General Halleck, of July 9, again 
refers to these factories. After referring to the En- 
glish and French ownership comes this remark: ''I 
take it a neutral is no better than one of our citizens, 
and we would not respect the property of one of our 
own citizens engaged in supplying a hostile army." 
This is the kind of logic proverbially used by the 
masters of legions. A despatch to General Halleck 
of July 13, gives General Sherman's opinion of two 



290 APPENDIX. 

great and philanthropic ii stitutions. Speaking of 
*' fellows hanging about" the army, he says: "The 
Sanitary and Christian Commission are enough to 
eradicate all traces of Christianity from our minds." 

July 14, to General J. E. Smith, at Allatoona : ''If 
you entertain a bare suspicion against any family, 
send it North. Any loafer or suspicious person seen 
at any time should be imprisoned and sent off. If 
guerrillas trouble the road or wires they should be 
shot without mercy." 

September 8, to General Webster after the capture 
of Atlanta : '^^ Don't let any citizens come to Atlanta ; 
not one. I won't allow trade or manufactures of any 
kind, but you will remove all the present population, 
and make Atlanta a pure military town." To Gen- 
eral Halleck he writes: ''I am not willing to have 
Atlanta encumbered by the families of our enemies." 
Of this wholesale depopulation. General Hood com- 
plained, by flag of truce, as cruel and contrary to the 
usages of civilized nations and customs of war, re- 
ceiving this courteous and gentlemanly reply (Sep- 
tember 12) : ''I think I understand the laws of civil- 
ized nations and the 'customs of war;' but, if at a 
loss at any time, I know where to seek for informa- 
tion to refiesh my memory." General Hood made 
the correspondence, or part of it, public, on which fact, 
General Shei man remarks to General Halleck: "Of 
course, he is welcome, for the more he arouses the in- 
dignation of the Southern masses, the bigger will be 
the pill of bitterness they will have to swallow," 

About the middle of September, General Sherman, 
being still in Atlanta, endeavoicd to open private 



APPENDIX. 291 

communication with Governor Brown and Vice-Presi- 
dent Stephens, whom he knew to be at variance with 
the administration at Richmond on certain points of 
public policy. Mr .Stephens refused to reply to a ver- 
bal message, but wrote to Mr. King, the intermedi- 
ary, that if the general would say that thete was any 
prospect of their agreeing upon * 'terms to be submit- 
ted to the action of their respective governments," 
he w^ould, as requested, visit him at Atlanta. The 
motives urged by Mr. King were General Sherman's 
extreme desire for peace, and to hit upon "some plan 
of terminating this fratricidal war without the fur- 
ther effusion of blood." But in General Sherman's 
despatch of September 14, to Mr. Lincoln, referring 
to these attempted negotiations, the humanitfirian 
point of view is scarcely so prominent. He says : ''It 
would be a magnificent stroke of policy if I could, 
without surrendering a foot of ground or principle, 
arouse the latent enmity to Davis." 

On October 20, he writes to General Thomas from 
Summerville, giving an idea of his plan of opera- 
tions : "Out of the forces nowhere and at Atlanta, I 
propose to organize an efficient army of 60,000 to 
65,000 men, with which I propose to destroy Macon, 
Augusta, and it may be. Savannah and Charleston. 
By this I propose to demonstrate the vulnerability of 
the South, and make its inhabitants feel that war 
and individual ruin are synonymous terms." 

Despatch of October 22, to General Grant: "I am 
now perfecting arrangements to put into Tennessee a 
force able to hold the line of the Tennessee, while I 
break up the railroad in front of Dalton, including 



292 APPENDIX. 

the city of Atlanta, and pnsh into Georgia and break 
up all its railroads and depots, capture its horses and 
negroes, make desolation everywhere; destroy the 
factories at Macon, Milledgeville and Augusta, and 
bring up with 60,000 men on the seashore about Sa- 
vannah and Charleston." 

To General Thomas, from Kingston, November 2: 
''Last night v^e burned Rome, and in tv^o more days 
v^ill burn Atlanta" (which he was then occupying). 

December 5 : "Blair can burn the bridges and cul- 
verts and burn enough barns to mark the progress of 
his head of columns." 

December 18, to General Grant, from near Savan- 
nah: "With Savannah in our possession, at some 
future time, if not now, we can punish South Caro- 
lina as she deserves, and as thousands of people in 
Georgia hope v\^e w^ill do. I do sincerely believe that 
the whole United States, north and south, would re- 
joice to have this army turned loose on South Caro- 
lina, to devastate that State in the manner we have 
done in Georgia." 

A little before this he announces to Secretary Stan- 
ton that he knows what the people of the South are 
fighting for. What do our readers suppose? To 
ravage the North with sword and fire, and crush them 
under their heel? Surely it must be some such delu- 
sion that inspires this ferocity of hatred, unmitigated 
by even a word of compassion. He may speak for 
himself: "Jefferson Davis has succeeded perfectly in 
inspiring his people with the truth that libert3^ and 
government are worth fighting for." This was their 
unpardonable crime. 



APPENDIX. 293 

December 22, to General Grant: ''If you can hold 
Lee, I could go on and smash South Carolina all to 
pieces." 

On the 18th, General Halleck writes : "Should you 
capture Charleston, I hope that by some accident the 
place may be destroyed ; and if a little salt should be 
sown upon its site, it may prevent the growth of fu- 
ture crops of nullification and secession. To this Gen- 
eral Sherman replies, December 24: ''This w^ar differs 
from European wars in this particular — we are not 
only fighting hostile armies, but a hostile people; and 
must make old and 3'oung, rich and poor, feel the 
hard hand of war, as well as their organized armies. 
I will bear in mind your hint as to Charleston, and 
don't think sa/t will be necessary When' I move, the 
Fifteenth corps will be on the right of the right wing, 
and their position will bring them naturally into 
Charleston first ; and, if you have studied the history 
of that corps, you will have remarked that they gen- 
erally do their -work up pretty well. The truth is, the 
whole army is burning with insatiable desire to 
wreak vengeance upon South Carolina. I almost 
tremble for her fate, but she deserves all that seems 
in store for her. 

"I look upon Columbia as quite as bad as Charles- 
ton, and I doubt if we shall spare the public build- 
ings there as we did at Milledgeville." 

And now we look with interest for the despatches 
that would settle the vexed question as to whether 
Sherman or his officers, acting under his orders, 
burned Columbia on the 17th of February. Unfortu- 
nately, a paternal government, not thinking it good 



294 APPENDIX, 

that the truth should be known, has suppressed all 
the despatches between the 16th and the 21st, and 
every other allusion to the transaction. 

On the 23d, he writes to General Kilpatrick : ''Let 
the whole people know the war is now against them, 
because their armies flee before us and do not defend 
their country or frontier as they should. It is pretty 
nonsense for Wheeler and Beauregard and such vain 
heroes to talk of our warring against women and 
children and prevent us reaching their homes." 

If, therefore, an army defending their country can 
prevent invaders from reaching their homes and fami- 
lies, the latter have a right to that protection ; but if 
the invaders can break through and reach these 
homes, these are justified in destroying women and 
children. Certainly this is a great advance on the 
doctrine and practice of the dark ages. Another ex- 
traordinary moral consequence flo^ws from this in- 
sufficiency of defence : ''If the enemy fails to defend 
his country, we may rightfully appropriate what we 
want." Here, now, is a nice question of martial law 
or cauistry, solved with the simplicity of an ancient 
Roman. In other words, Tvhen in the enemy's coun- 
try, the army shall be strictly careful not to seize, 
capture or appropriate to military or private uses, 
any property— that it cannot get. 

"They (the Southern people) have lost all title to 
property, and can lose nothing not already for- 
feited." 

What, nothing? Not merely the houses we had 
built, the lands we had tilled, the churches we wor- 
shipped in— had we forfeited the right to drink of the 



APPENDIX. 295 

streams, to behold the stm, to breathe the free air of 
heaven? What unheard of, what inconceivable crime 
had we committed that thus closed every gate of 
mercy and compassion against us, and provoked an 
utterance which has but one parallel— the death war- 
rant signed by Philip II. against all Netherlanders? 
General Sherman has himself told us what it was : 
We had dared to act on the ''truth that liberty and 
government are worth fighting for." 

On March 15, he writes to General Gillmore, advis- 
ing him to draw forces from Charleston and Savan- 
nah (both then in Federal hands) to destroy a rail- 
road, etc. "As to the garrisons of those places I don't 
feel disposed to be over-generous, and should not 
hesitate to burn Savannah, Charleston and Wilming- 
ton, or either of them, if the garrisons were needed." 

Such are some of the results of our gleanings in 
this field. Is it any wonder that after reading them 
we fervently echo General Sherman's devout aspira- 
tion : ''I do wish the fine race of men that people the 
United States should rule and determine the future 
destiny of America." 



296 TESTIMONIALS. 



TESTIMONIALS, 



STATE OF GEORGIA, 
EXECUTIVE OFFICE, 

Atlanta, September 1st, 1894. 
''Life in Dixie During the War," by Miss Mary A. 
H. Gay, presents a striking picture of home life ainong 
our people during that dark period of our history. 

While such presentation is hardly looked for in 
more elaborate history of those times. Miss Gay's 
conception was a wise one, and the record she has 
given will preserve a most desirable part of the his- 
tory of our section. 

Her book deserves to be widely circulated. 

W. J. NORTHEN, 

Governor. 

''LIFE IN DIXIE DURING THE WAR." 

This, handsome volume from the pen of Miss Mary 
A. H. Gay, whose many acts of self-denial entitle her 
to the name of philanthropist, will meet with a 
hearty welcome from her wide circle of friends. But 
a casual glance at the volume leads us to conclude 
that outside of this circle, even with the reader who 
will look into it as a key to the history of the "times 
that tried men's souls," it will be a book of more than 
passing interest. The author writes with the feel- 
ings of a partisan, but time has mellowed her recol- 
lection of these stormy times, and even the reader 
whose sympathies were with the other side will agree 
with Joel Chandler Harris in his introduction to the 
book. In its mechanical get-up, the book is a gem. — 
AilanUh Constitution, DecemlDer 18, 1892. 



TESTIMONIALS. 297 



''LIFE IN DIXIE." 

Miss Mary A. H. Gay has published a volume en- 
titled ''Life in Dixie During the War," which should 
be in every Southern home. It is one of the truest 
pictures of the life of our people during the war that 
has yet been drawm. In fact, it could not be better, 
for it shows things just as they were. The struggles 
and sufferings of the Southern people during that 
awful period exhibited a heroism that has seldom 
been matched in the world's history. Miss Gay was 
among them. She looked on their trials with sympa- 
thetic eyes and suffered with them. F'ortunately she 
is gifted with the power of describing what she saw, 
and her book will be a classic of war literature. Its 
every page is interesting. This story of Dixie during 
the war reads like romance to the generation that has 
arisen since, but it should have for generations an in- 
terest as deep as that with which it is read by those 
who lived and acted amid the scenes it records. It 
shows how grand was the courage and virtue, how 
sublime the faith and endurance of the men and wo- 
men of the South throughout that terrible ordeal. 
It is a book that will live, and one that will give to 
the w^orld a true representation of the conduct of a 
noble people in affliction. Miss Gay has made numer- 
ous contributions to our literature which mark her 
as a woman of rare capacity and exquisite feelings, 
but she has done no work that is worthier of grati- 
tude and praise than that embodied in "Life in 
Dixie." — The Atlanta Journal, January 17, 1893. 



298 .TESTIMONIALS 



''LIFE IN DIXIE. 



Miss Mary Gay's recent book, ''Life in Dixie Dur- 
ing the War," is rapidly winning favor with the pub- 
lic. Some of our most distinguished writers speak 
of it in very high terms as a notable contribution to 
our history. The Rev. Dr. J. William Jones says of it: 

" 'Life in Dixie During the War' is a charming story 
of home-life during those dark days when our noble 
women displayed a patient endurance, and active zeal, 
a self-denying work in the hospitals, a genuine pa- 
triotism, a true heroism v^hich equalled the record of 
their fathers, husbands, sons and brothers in the 
army. 

"But Decatur, near Atlanta, was the scene of stir- 
ring events during Sherman's campaign against the 
doomed city, and Miss Gay's facile pen vividly por- 
trays historic events of deepest interest. 

"Visits from the soldier boy to the old home, letters 
from camp, visits to the camps and hospitals, the 
smoke and changing scenes of battle in the enemy's 
lines, refugeeing, and many other events of those stir- 
ring days, are told with the vividness of an eye-wit- 
ness and the pen of an accomplished writer. 

"It is, in a word, a vivid and true picture of 'Life 
in Dixie During the War,' and should find a place not 
only in our Southern homes, but in the homes of all 
who desire to see a true account of the life of our no- 
ble women during those trying days. 

"REV. JOHN WILLIAM JONES." 
The Constitution, May 2d, 1893. 



^' RD-94 



TESTIMONIALS. 299 

The ''Confederate Love Song," by Miss Mary A. H. 
Gay, of Decatur, was written during the late war. 
It is a charming bit of verse, and forms one of a 
galaxy of beautiful songs from the same true pen. 
In 1880, Miss Gay published a volume of verses 
which received the unusual compliment of a public de- 
mand for no less than eleven editions. The author's 
life is one of the most beautiful; it is, therefore, quite 
natural that her poetry should partake of the simple 
truth and sincerity of that life, consecrated as it is, 
and ever has been, to the noblest work.— Atlanta 
Constitution. 












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